


Prisoners of War

by canonjohnlock



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: AU, Angst, Cute friendships, Dan POV, Depressive Thoughts, F/M, Het, Letters, Letters to Dan, Letters to Phil, M/M, Mentions of Death, Never ABO, Phil gets a tattoo!, Pining, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Scare, Slow Burn, Solider Phil, Some Fluff, Some Humor, Tattooed Phil, Tension, UST, Unresolved Feelings, Unresolved Sexual Tension, War AU, minor Het Sex, not abo, some het sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-21 23:25:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6062047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canonjohnlock/pseuds/canonjohnlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil enlists in the army and Dan is left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. May-September 2015

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: I AM LOOKING FOR A BETA FOR THIS FIC! SOMEONE WITH EXPERIENCE AND WITH A LOT OF PATIENCE. MESSAGE ME @ SIRIUSLYJAMESPOTTER.TUMBLR.COM IF YOU'RE INTERESTED.
> 
> Hey, guys! Since I'm trash I decided to write an AU. I don't tend to update often, so be wary. I thought I would include some quick notes before we begin. 
> 
> No war is specified, but I imagine Phil is in a dry place, so somewhere in the Middle East. I also have no knowledge of how the military works in the UK so if I get anything wrong, please tell me and I will try to fix it. This story will mainly take place from Dan's point of view, so if you're looking for a Phil POV, this isn't for you. There may be some graphic depictions of violence, as the warning says. If there are, they will be rare. I think that's all. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> -Alex

_“The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.”_

_― G.K. Chesterton_

* * *

**30 May 2015**

“You can’t be fucking serious!” Dan shouts, closing the cupboard with more force than necessary.

“Of course I’m serious, Dan,” Phil retorts, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I won’t let you.”

“ _Excuse me_? Since when do you control what I do?”

“Since you started acting like a complete fucking idiot!”

Phil shakes his head. “It’s the best way I can help. I _want_ to help.”

“Helping does not equate getting fucking shot at!”

“For Christ’s sake, Dan! It’s my decision!”

“It’s a fucking stupid one!”

Phil’s voice is steely when he says, “You’ve said so several times.”

Dan combs his fingers through his hair, not even caring about messing up his fringe. “Phil, please. You can’t be serious.”

“I am. I want to do this. I want to help.”

“Please, Phil. You can, like, send care packages to the soldiers. That’s helping.”

Phil closes his eyes and shakes his head, raking his fingers over the sides of his head. “I want to help in a bigger way. Dan, I can’t do this without your support.”

Dan balls his hands into fists and turns his back on his best friend. “If you go, I can’t promise I’ll still be here.”

The silence fills the room in a way Dan didn’t think was possible. It crawls into his pores and infiltrates his cells. He chews on his lower lip and squeezes his eyes shut. “I have a video I need to finish editing,” Dan says, and he walks to his room and locks the door. He knows Phil can hear him crying, can hear him tearing his room apart. And Dan waits. He waits for Phil to knock on his door and explain that it was a cruel joke. Phil never comes.

 

**6 June 2015**

Phil enlists the next week. He’s of prime age and it shouldn’t take long to get him into shape. Dan doesn’t speak to him, just glares at the enlistment papers Phil leaves scattered in the lounge, waiting to be filled out. Phil keeps trying to talk to Dan, but he won’t listen. He’ll come up with weak excuses to get out of having a conversation, like getting milk or calling his mum.

Dan waits still. He waits for Phil to realize this is a shit idea and withdraw or something. It never happens and it isn’t until Phil receives a call saying he should report to Cavalry Barracks for training that the reality of the situation weighs down on them both.

“Dan, please. You have to talk to me,” Phil pleads, resting his head against Dan’s closed bedroom door. Dan spends a lot of time in his room, more so than usual. Phil squeezes his eyes shut. “Dan, please. Please, let me in.” There’s no sound from the other side of the door and Phil begins to worry. Did Dan do something stupid? He tries the knob. It’s locked. “Dan,” Phil says hurriedly, “at least let me know you’re alive.”

“I don’t wanna talk to you,” Dan yells.

Phil sighs in relief. “Please. I’m leaving in a week for training. I don’t- I don’t want to leave with us not talking.” He listens closely for the sound of movement on the other side of the door. He hears the bed groan as Dan stands up and the soft sound of footsteps on carpet as he walks to the door. The lock clicks and Dan pulls the door open. Phil wastes no time enveloping Dan in a hug and burrowing his face in his neck.

Dan hesitates before wrapping his arms around Phil and rubbing his back. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

Phil hiccups, but keeps his face buried in Dan’s neck. “I’m scared, Dan. I’m so scared.”

Dan’s voice gets caught in his throat. He doesn’t know what to say and he’s scared. He’s so fucking scared so he just holds Phil and hopes if he holds tight enough the future will change.

 

**26 June 2015**

Dan isn’t allowed to visit Phil at the barracks. He can call though. Their phone calls are short; no longer than five minutes. It hurts knowing Phil is still in London. It hurts knowing he won’t be in the city much longer. He’ll be sent out soon. He’ll be sent out to get shot at. Dan closes his eyes and focuses on what Phil’s saying.

“They’ve made me shave my head,” Phil says.

“They _what_?” Dan asks, sitting up from his browsing position.

Phil laughs. “Properly shaved. It feels kind of weird.”

“You probably look like an alien,” Dan jokes.

“My giant forehead was not made for this style.” There’s a pause. “They told me I might be getting sent out in a month or so. I’ll be a foot soldier.”

Dan bites his lower lip. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a long stretch of silence before Dan whispers, “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. You’ll be allowed to see me off at the airport.”

Dan sighs. “That’s- That’s good.”

“Mhmm. They’re saying I have to go now. I’ll call when I can.”

“Okay,” Dan chokes out.

If Phil hears the strain in Dan’s voice, he doesn’t mention it. “Bye, Dan.”

Two weeks later, Dan gets a call during a meeting with Radio 1. “Hello?”

“Dan?”

Dan stands up, almost knocking his chair over. He places his hand over the receiver and tells the producers he’ll be back. He steps out of the room. “Phil?”

“It’s so good to hear your voice.”

Dan smiles. “Yours too.”

Phil sighs and Dan braces himself. “There’s really no easy way to say this, so I’ll just come out with it. I’m being deployed. I leave Monday at six AM.”

Dan feels like the air got knocked out of him. His knees give beneath him and he crumples to the floor. Has the room always been spinning? He feels like he’s going to vomit. Why can’t he breathe? “Wh- What?”

“They’re sending me out, Dan. I’m going to fight.”

 

**30 June 2015**

@phangirl4life: _@AmazingPhil @danisnotonfire where’s phil been? is he okay?_

@amazingdilhowlter: _@AmazingPhil @danisnotonfire where tf is phil???_

@dilcakes123: _@AmazingPhil @danisnotonfire r u okay???_

 

**13 July 2015**

Dan doesn’t sleep Saturday night. He can’t. So he showers and he brews coffee and makes pancakes that he doesn’t eat. He leaves to go to the London airport at three in the morning even though Phil won’t be there until four-thirty.

He finds a Starbucks in the airport and orders two drinks by force of habit. He decides he’ll still give Phil his. He plays games on his phone. He avoids being recognized. He throws up in the bathroom two times, which is less than he expected.

At four thirty-six, Phil arrives. He gladly accepts the coffee Dan had gotten him. He drinks it even though it’s cold by that point. At four forty-two, Dan wraps himself around Phil and sobs quietly into his shoulder. At four fifty-four, Dan untangles himself from Phil. At five o’ two, Phil disappears in the London airport.

 

**15 July 2015**

@danisnotonfire: _just uploaded a new video. explains what’s been going on these past few weeks. I’ll try to answer as many questions as I can._

          @phanfictionwriter1: _@danisnotonfire @AmazingPhil ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???_

          @howell-lester-phan: _@danisnotonfire @AmazingPhil is this a joke? pls tell me it’s a joke_

          @philadndan: _@danisnotonfire @AmazingPhil wtf r u serious???_

@danisnotonfire: _I am not kidding. it’s all true._

 

**18 July 2015**

Dan keeps the news channel on at all times. He doesn’t want to miss anything regarding the war, anything that could affect Phil. He’s already sent Phil a care package. It’s mostly fan mail that people sent in. Dan doesn’t add anything to it.

He doesn’t address the war or Phil in any of his videoes. He turns off his Twitter notifications and deletes the social media apps from his phone. He reloads them the next day, though.

Friends come to visit him often. Dan doesn’t mind really. If he tries really hard, he can pretend the noise they make is actually Phil.

Dan begins sleeping on Phil’s bed. It smells like him.

 

**20 July 2015**

“Are you going to VidCon?” Phil asks over the phone.

“I don’t think so.”

“I think you should.”

“Why? So people can ask me about you and I can have a breakdown on stage? No, thanks.”

“Dan…”

“What, Phil?” Dan snaps.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry.”

“If you were really sorry you wouldn’t have gone.”

“I’m so sorry, Dan.”

Dan doesn’t say anything.

“I’ve been getting your letters. Could you maybe start dating them? Sometimes I get them out of order.”

Dan lets out a shaky breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll start dating them.”

“Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“Promise you’ll still be there when I come back?”

Dan closes his eyes. “I could never leave you.”

 

**30 July 2015**

There’s a bombing.

“Do you know if Phil’s alright?” Dan asks Phil’s mum over the phone, pacing the length of his room.

“I was just about to ask you that,” she says. “I’m so worried. Why did he have to do this?”

“He’s Phil. He always has to help.”

 

**2 August 2015**

_Dear Dan,_

_I’m fine. My squadron and I had just left the area the day before the bombing. Don’t worry about me._

_Things have actually been pretty calm, considering there’s a war waging right outside. Some of the other guys here have experienced some pretty bad things. They share stories with each other and I can’t help but listen in. One guy, David, watched his best friend get blown to pieces. I know you probably don’t want to hear that. Some of the other guys talk about the first time they went home. One guy almost killed his wife in his sleep. I guess night terrors are a symptom of PTSD._

_There’s a guy here named James. Apparently, he watches our videos! How cool is that? He’s really nice, too. He’s only nineteen. He kind of reminds me of you when we first met. All scrawny with big eyes. Expect he’s funnier. ;)_

_We’re moving to another camp in a few days. It has computers so we might be able to Skype. I miss you, Dan. Hope you’re doing well._

_Love,_

_Phil._

 

**6 August 2015**

Dan goes on anxiety meds two months after Phil leaves.

 

**15 August 2015**

“Dan? Can you hear me?”

“Yes! But I still can’t see you,” Dan says, checking his own connection.

“How bout now?” Phil asks as his face comes into view.

“I can see you now, yeah. Boy, does this take me back.”

Phil laughs. “I was just about to say the same thing!”

“How’ve you been? Nice hair, by the way”

“Shut up! You wish you could pull off a buzz cut.” Phil sticks his tongue out. “I’ve been good. I’m being sent out on a supply run with James and two other guys. Did I mention James to you?”

“The kid who reminds you of me? Yes, you did,” Dan answers, adjusting his laptop so he can see Phil better. “What are you guys supposed to get?”

“Some medical supplies for the doctors. They’re running low on some things.” Phil’s picture flickers but comes back into focus.

Dan chews his lower lip. “Is it safe?”

Phil sighs and looks down. Dan knows he’s rubbing his leg. He does that when he’s nervous. “Nothing’s ever safe over here, Dan,” he whispers. “I’m scared.”

“You’re going to be okay. Alright?” Dan hears Phil sniffle. “Phil? Look at me.” He does. “You gotta come home. You gotta come home for me. Got it?”

Phil nods and wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “For you. I can do that.”

 

**22 August 2015**

“Hey, guys!” Dan says to the camera, planting a smile on his face. “So, Phil’s been gone a little over two months now. It feels like forever, t-b-h. He wants me to tell you he really appreciates all the things you’re sending him. He also says to send more candy.” Dan looks at the camera, completely done. “Anyway, he wrote you guys a letter so I guess it’d be a good idea to read that to you guys.”

“‘Hello, secret lizards! Can you believe I’m actually in a war? I’m pretty buff now, so you can draw me like that in your fan art. I really appreciate all those care packages you guys are sending me. They honestly make my day. I’m sure some of you have some questions about this whole thing, so tweet them to Dan and he’ll send me a list of the ones he thinks I should answer.’”

Dan pauses and looks up, annoyed, but playful. “This guy, always giving me more work. Even at war.”

“‘I’ll answer some I think some of you may ask. The hardest thing is no social media! Good thing I had the bright idea to set up a Tumblr queue. But in all seriousness, the hardest thing is being away from all my friends and family. I miss them a whole lot. I haven’t really seen anything traumatizing yet, so that’s good. I have met some really great people over here. I know you guys would love them. Sadly, this is all I have time to write, but I will talk to you all soon! Bye!’”

Dan sighs and puts the letter down. “I’ll, um, type that up and post it on Tumblr. Keep Phil in your prayers, if you believe in that kind of stuff. I’d also like to give a shout out to everybody who has ever served or is serving. You guys are doing a great thing and I- I really appreciate that. So, yeah. Uh, thanks. That’s it for now. Bye, guys.”

 

**31 August 2015**

“Phil’s doing well, I assume?” PJ says over lunch.

Dan nods. “Yeah, he is. He hasn’t died yet, if that’s what you mean.”

PJ sighs and takes a sip from his drink. “How about you?”

“What about me?”

“How are you holding up?”

Dan snorts. “How do you think?”

PJ frowns and stirs his drink with his straw. “Dan…”

“What?”

“How do you think Phil feels? He's the one in danger.”

“He had a choice. I didn't.”

“It's a little selfish, don't you think?”

“I didn't ask you, PJ,” Dan whispers.

“Dan. We both know your relationship with Phil is… important.”

Dan laughs drily. “Of course it is. We're best friends.”

“You're more than that.”

“What makes you say that?”

“It's obvious, Dan. You love Phil and he loves you.”

“Yeah. ‘Cause we're-”

“Don't say best friends. It's not platonic love. Phil is hurting just as much as you are.”

Dan stares at his hands in his lap. “He chose to go over there.”

“And you think that was an easy decision for him? For Christ’s sake, Dan! He needs your support. He needs you,” he shouts, drawing attention towards them. Dan slinks lower in his seat. “Don't be a twat.”

 

**2 September 2015**

@philliplester_danhowell: _@danisnotonfire @AmazingPhil how long is Phil gonna be there?_

          @danisnotonfire: _@philliplester_danhowell two years_

@phanisperfection: _@danisnotonfire @AmazingPhil are you guys okay?_

          @danisnotonfire: _@phanisperfection not really tbfh_

@fxckinghowlters: _@danisnotonfire @AmazingPhil is Phil hurt???_

          @danisnotonfire: _@fxckinghowlters physically no. emotionally maybe. I_

 

**6 September 2015**

Dan stares at the television blankly. His mind hasn't yet registered what the reporter said. He's gripping the remote in his hand so tightly the plastic is cracking. His breathing is labored and his heart is pounding.

There was an airstrike on a school. Phil mentioned he and his squadron were trying to secure a school area so the kids would feel safer. The newscaster continues to speak.

“The airstrike, which happened last night, resulted in thirty-seven casualties. Twenty-eight were foot soldiers.” The reporter pauses and folds her hands on her desk. “Thirteen of those twenty-eight were Americans, the rest were British.”

Dan is hyperventilating now. He can't breathe. He can't fucking breathe. He can feel his throat closing up, his lungs gasping for air. It burns. It burns so fucking bad but he can't breathe. He can't stop. A sob works its way up his throat. Why can't he breathe? His phone’s ringing. He can feel it buzzing in his back pocket. Dan feels ill. He leans over the couch and dry heaves. His throat is raw and he _can't fucking breathe._

Someone's knocking on the door, calling his name.

Dan coughs up stomach acid, his mouth burning. He wants to tear his lungs from his chest.

The door is opening. Someone has a key. It must be Phil. He's surprising Dan. It's gonna make a cute video that one of them can post.

He's coming up the stairs. Dan has to greet him. “Phil,” he wheezes.

He comes into the lounge. “Dan?” Not Phil. Jeff, their neighbor. “I saw the news and wanted to check on you.” There's a pause. “Holy shit.”

“I want Phil,” Dan cries, banging his fist on the ground. He coughs up more bile and it splatters on the ground. “Where's Phil?”

Jeff kneels next to Dan, hesitating before pulling him to his chest. “Shh. I'm sure he's okay.”

“I want Phil! Where is he?” Dan thrashes in Jeff’s arms, fighting back the urge to vomit again.

“Dan, calm down. Please, calm down.”

He beats his palm against Jeff’s chest. “Give me Phil! Bring him back! I need Phil!”

“Dan, please.” Jeff’s voice cracks.

Dan still can't fucking breathe. Phil. Phil has to be alright. Dan gasps for air. He needs Phil.  


	2. September-October 2015

**7 September 2015**

Dan wakes up in his bed, the duvet tucked in around him. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes and sits up. His room is dark. He’s about to go back to sleep when yesterday’s events come to the front of his mind. He scrambles out of bed, legs tangled in the blanket. He struggles to untangle himself and runs into the lounge. Jeff is in there, watching the news. He startles when he sees Dan.

“You’re awake.”

“Yeah. Is there- Is there any news?” Dan asks quickly.

Jeff shakes his head. “I did make you breakfast, though. It’s in the kitchen.”

“Um, thanks.”

“I know we’re not exactly close, but I figured you needed someone. I know how… close you and Phil are.”

Dan nods slowly. “I’m… gonna go eat… then.” He walks out of the lounge and back to his bedroom, grabbing his phone. It was charging. Dan assumes Jeff must have plugged it in because Dan certainly doesn’t remember doing so. He has several messages, including some from PJ, Chris, Phil’s mum, his own mother, and a few other friends. He scrolls through them as he trudges into the kitchen.

He responds to a few, saying he’s okay and that he hasn’t heard anything. Dan sits down at the table with his breakfast and opens Twitter. His feed is blown up with questions and concerns about Phil’s safety and whereabouts. Dan closes out the app.

He sets his phone face down on the table and begins to eat. He's not hungry, but he knows he has to eat. His chest still feels tight, like someone is pushing his ribs in.

Dan’s phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Dan,” Phil says, voice hoarse.

“Phil?”

“Yeah.”

Dan chokes on his words, a few tears rolling down his cheeks. “You're okay?”

There's a long pause. “No. I'm not okay.” Phil’s voice is thick. “I'm not okay, Dan.”

“What- What happened?” Dan asks.

“I was there, Dan. I watched kids burn. Christ, Dan, I want to go home.”

“Phil…”

“James is- He's- He's-” he cuts off, broken sobs pouring out of the receiver.

“Shh, Phil. It’s okay. It’s all gonna be okay.”

“No, Dan!” Phil shouts. “It’s not okay! I’m not gonna be okay!” He takes a deep breath and continues. “I watched someone  _ die _ . I held him as he took his last breath. The scent of burnt flesh is seared into my mind! Dan, I’m not- I’m not okay.”

“Phil, please,” Dan whimpers.

Phil hiccups and Dan digs his fingernails into the edge of the table. “I’m not okay.”

Dan bites so hard on his lip it begins to bleed. “I’m so sorry, Phil.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“Are you- Are you hurt, though?” Dan asks cautiously.

Phil sighs. “I’m- I’m fine. A few broken ribs and some minor burns, but I’ll be okay.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

 

**12 September 2015**

_ Dear Phil, _

_ I never really know how to begin these letters. Do I dive right in or make awkward small talk about the weather and the impending alien attacks? I’ll skip all that. _

_ You’ve been gone about three months now. It feels longer. I’m sure it feels like ages for you. I hope you’re healing okay. You should call your mum more often. She worries. The fans, of course, are also worried. They sent in a shit ton of questions, too. They’ll be attached to this letter. _

_ I’ve been doing okay. Some days are better than others, but you’re the one at war so I can’t really complain. The radio show is doing okay. I do a lot of talking since I’m the only one doing it. _

_ Your Tumblr queue is dwindling. I don’t think you really thought out the whole thing. Luckily, I know your password so I adjusted how many times it posts a day and added a few more things to the queue. Nothing bad, I promise. _

_ I was lying in bed the other day and I realized you didn’t really bring anything from home with you. I’m sending you my Pooh Bear. Don’t you dare send it back or I will bite your head off. I asked your mum for a family photo so I’m sending that as well. _

_ I miss you a lot, Phil. Please, stay safe. _

_ All the love, _

_ Dan _

 

**23 September 2015**

Dan would not say it gets easier. Nothing ever really gets easier. Not stuff like this. Riding a bike gets easier. Driving gets easier. That kind of stuff does. Missing someone with your whole heart does not.

There’s no  _ How To _ for missing someone. There’s no instruction manual or little pamphlet you get in the mail. It’s thrust upon you and you’re forced to deal with it, whether you like it or not. Dan’s mum suggests he go to a support group.

Dan knows she’s worried about him. Most of his friends and family are. He doesn’t see why. Phil’s the one at war.

He agrees to go just to appease his mum.

“So, Dan, how long has your wife been gone?”

Dan looks up from the thin packet he was thumbing through. “Wife?”

The group leader nods.

“I don’t- I don’t have a wife,” he chuckles.

“Brother or sister?”

“Um, flatmate. And best friend.”

The group leader looks confused. “Oh. Um, okay.”

“Is something wrong?” Dan frowns.

“Oh, no! Not at all! It’s just- This group is for people with family members or significant others at war.”

Dan blushes deep red. “Oh. I’m sorry. My mum, uh, recommended this group to me.”

“It’s quite alright. Would you like to share?”

Dan wrinkles his brow. “Share what?”

“What happened to your flatmate.”

Dan blushes again. “Oh. Right. Phil, that’s his name, enlisted and got sent to war.”

The group leader looks at him softly. “I’m so sorry. How long will he be gone?”

“Um, two years. He’s only been gone almost three months.”

“Did he have a lot of support going in?”

Dan stares at his feet. “I really didn’t want him to go. He’s- He’s my best friend. If he- If he dies, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“I’m sorry, Dan.”

Dan shrugs and the leader moves on to the next person. Dan sinks down in his seat.

 

**25 September 2015**

@danisnotonfire:  _ phil is okay. he has some broken ribs and some bruises, but he’ll be okay. _

**1 October 2015**

“Are you danisnotonfire?” an older woman asks Dan while on the tube.

“Um, yes,” Dan says, pocketing his phone.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, but my daughter is a big fan of you and Phil. My son enlisted as well.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

She waves her hand. “Don’t worry about it, dear. I just wanted to say that you’re helping my daughter. She really misses her brother and the fact that she has an idol who’s going through the same thing is so amazing. I’d like to thank you.”

Dan’s eyes widen. “Oh. Oh, um, you’re welcome, I guess. I’m happy I can help.”

The woman nods and returns to her seat. Dan can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.

 

**10 October 2015**

@danisnotonfire:  _ hoping to make a new video. you guys are gonna have to send in questions. the video’s for those of you who have someone who enlisted. (pt 1) _

@danisnotonfire:  _ it’ll be like the internet support group. so send in your rants and questions and everything in between using #WarInternetSupportGroup _

@danisnotonfire:  _ I really want to help those of you who are missing people right now. thanks, guys. xD _

**12 October 2015**

“Hello, Internet!” Dan greets, adjusting his position in his chair. It squeaks. “Oh. That’s new.” He twists in his seat some more than stares blankly at the camera. “I might edit this out.” He smiles. “Anyway, about two weeks ago I met a woman on the underground who told me I’m helping her daughter deal with brother enlisting. Is that worded properly? You get the idea. I thought I’d be able help by having another Internet Support Group, but for those who are missing someone due to the war. I asked you guys to tweet me your questions and you did not disappoint. Let’s begin.”

Dan picks up his phone and clicks on the hashtag and scroll throughs a few tweets until he finds one he thinks he can answer.

“This one is from @meagan__jones234. ‘Hi, Dan. My dad enlisted about a year ago and he’s been gone since then. I miss him lots. How do you deal with missing Phil?’” Dan chuckles. “Well, Meagan, I’m probably not the best role model for dealing with this sort of thing. I write Phil a lot of letters and I always take his calls, no matter where I am. I also use every opportunity I can to Skype him. Our conversations are short, but meaningful. I try to make the most of every little word because-” Dan pauses. “Because I never know if they’ll be his last.” Dan looks off to the side, blinking rapidly to fend off tears. He knows he’ll cut this part out.

“@lucigoosii says, ‘My boyfriend came back from the war with PTSD. He’s distant and withdrawn and I don’t know what to do.’ Hi, Luci. You have to remember that what your boyfriend saw at war is something incomparable. He’s probably seen things he can’t unsee. Give him time. Maybe suggest he see someone. Ask what you can do to help. There are probably support groups out there. I wish I could help more, but that’s all I got.”

Dan laughs softly. “This is- This is proving to be harder than I thought it would. I don’t know how I’m going to edit this.” He tugs on his lower lip. “For Phil. I’m doing this for Phil.

“The next question is from @phanphangurl. ‘I haven’t heard from my uncle in a long time. I’m worried he’s hurt or worse. Pls, help me.’ First off, I’m so sorry. I know how scary it can be, not knowing whether your loved one is okay or not. Just focus on the good, I guess. There’s not much else you can do besides wait. It sucks, I know. If you’re the religious type, you can pray. Or send good vibes.”

Dan glances down at his lap. “I’m sorry, guys. I think that’s all I can do right now. I promise to do another one of these videos soon. Bye, Internet.”

Dan stands up and stops the recording. He curls into a ball on his bed and stares at his wall until he falls asleep.

**23 October 2015**

_ Dear Dan, _

_ How’ve you been? I’ve been fine, mostly. I’m healing well and should be good to go in a few more days. I know that must worry you, but if a few broken ribs is the worst they got, then bring it on! That was probably in poor taste. They’ve got me doing some simple things in the med tent, like helping soldiers who are worse off than me. It reminds me of why I came here in the first place: to help people. _

_ A few guys are getting Halloween candy from their loved ones, which reminded me of Spooky Week. Are you going to do that? I’d like it if you did. _

_ I miss you still. I just learnt that sometimes soldiers can go home for a few days during the holidays. I’ll apply, even though it’s usually reserved for people who have been here longer than I have. _

_ Happy Halloween! _

_ Love, _

_ Phil _

**25 October 2015**

“Hello Dan and Phil graveyards!” Dan greets, saluting his audience. “It’s Spooky Week here on Dan and Phil Games! Since Phil is not here and I’m too much of a pussy to play by myself, I’m joined by Chris!” Dan laughs and points at the camera. “I’m gonna bleep that. Say ‘hello,’ Chris!”

Chris waves. “Hello, Chris!”

Dan groans. “Even with Phil gone I still have to deal with bad jokes. Welcome, Chris!”

“Glad to be here,” Chris grins.

“I am not glad to have you,” Dan teases. “What are we playing today?”

“Five Nights at Freddy’s Four!”

Dan groans. “Last time Phil and I played this, I fell out of my chair.”

Chris smiles. “That is exactly why we’re playing it.”

Dan rolls his eyes and, imitating Mario, says, “Let’s a-go!”

 

**31 October 2015**

Parties are not Dan’s thing, especially when he has to go alone. He just feels awkward, even if he knows a lot of people attending. He makes small talk with them. It feels like they’re mostly tip-toeing around him. No one mentions Phil, which Dan isn’t too sure if he should be happy or upset about that. On one hand, he doesn’t have to lie and say he’s fine, but on the other, it’s as if Phil has never existed. Like he’s dead or something.

Dan takes another drink, gulping down half of it in one breath. Pumpkin vodka is not his first choice, but he’ll take what he can get. Usually, it’s Phil who drinks the most out of the two of them. His sweet demeanor and seemingly innocent mind could prepare no one for the strong alcohol he chooses willingly. Dan was surprised the first time they went drinking together. What Dan drank to get drunk, Phil couldn’t even get tipsy off of.

By one AM, Dan is smashed. He’s swaying on his feet and slurring his words and everything is a little bit blurry. He’s fighting his way back to the kitchen to get another drink when someone knocks into him, sending him sprawling across the ground. Dan is confused, wondering what happened to lead him to sit on the ground, but then someone is reaching out to help him up.

“Sorry about that, mate,” a guy with dark green eyes says, pulling Dan to his feet. “Didn’t see you there.”

“‘S’kay,” Dan slurs, grabbing the guy’s bicep to steady himself.

“Woah, you okay?” The guy tilts his head to the side, examining Dan. “Little too much to drink, maybe?”

Dan waves his hand. “No. ‘S not too… much.” He hiccups.

“Looks a bit like it. Do you know where you are?”

Dan laughs. “‘Course I know where I am. I’m atta party.”

The guy nods. “Okay. Can you tell me what you dressed up as?”

Dan giggles again. “Imma meme!” he shouts, throwing his arms in the air.

The guy takes in Dan’s Pepe the frog shirt and his jeans with the doge meme taped onto them in various places. “I see that now, yes. Very clever.”

Dan beams with pride and the room isn’t spinning as quickly as it was before. “ItwasmyfriendPhil’sidea,” he says, slurring all the words together.

The guy nods again. “You must be Dan, then.”

Dan’s eyes pop open. “How’d ya know my name?”

“Lucky guess. Let’s get you home, okay?”

“‘Mkay,” Dan agrees, letting the stranger lead him out of the flat and into the darkened hallway.

“Do you know your way home?”

“Home?”

“Where you live.”

“I live in tha moment,” Dan announces, laughing at his own joke.

The stranger nods. “Okay. Let’s go back to my place, then, yeah?”

“Kay.” Dan stumbles after the guy into the lift and decides it would be a good idea to press all the buttons. He laughs again. “Look what I did, Phil!”

“I’m not Phil; I’m Kevin.”

“Okay,  _ Kevin _ ,” Dan winks, as if he’s in on some joke.

Kevin sighs. “You should sleep.”

“Sure.  _ Sleep _ .” Dan wiggles his eyebrows. He blacks out when he and Kevin get to the fourth floor.


	3. November 2016-January 2016

**1 November 2015**

Dan has a blinding headache and a pain in his bum. It’s too bright, wherever he is, even with his eyes closed. He groans and turns onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow. _Something’s not right,_ Dan thinks and he sits up. Too fast, apparently, as his head starts spinning and he has to fight the urge to vomit. Once his vision clears, he sees he is in a room that is not his. The walls are a pale blue, decorated with posters of bands he doesn’t listen to and photos of people he doesn’t recognize. There’s a bottle of water and two pills on the bedside table. Dan is about to swallow them when he realizes they could be drugs, like GHB or roofies or something. He examines the tablets in his hand and when he finds the inscription identifying them as aspirin, he pops them in his mouth. The water bottle’s seal is unbroken so he drinks the whole thing.

The pain in his ass is sharper now that he’s fully awake. He stands up on unsteady legs, discovering that he is in loose blue boxers and a white t-shirt. He begins to panic. Where is he? What happened? What is he wearing? Why does his butt- Oh, shit.

Dan scrambles to the full length mirror on the back of the door, clawing at the shirt to get it off. He twists his torso to examine himself and finds no love bites. He takes a deep breath and reaches behind him, pressing two fingers against his entrance. No. No, he didn’t. He moves his fingers up. The pain’s in his tailbone. He didn’t.

He releases a sigh of relief and pulls the shirt back on, opening the door. He walks down a short hall, following the faint sound of a radio. It opens into a small kitchen with outdated appliances where a short man with dark blonde hair is cooking. His back is towards Dan. Dan clears his throat.

The guy jumps and turns around, a soft smile spreading across his face. “You’re awake.”

“Um, yeah.”

The stranger’s face falls. “Do you remember anything?”

Does he? “Um. I remember going to a party. Dressed as a meme.” He mentally face-palms himself. How did he let Phil convince him to go as a meme? “I had too many drinks.”

The guy snorts. “That’s an understatement. You were _smashed_.”

“Oh.”

“I’m Kevin, by the way. I’m a friend of a friend’s brother.”

“Um, hi,” Dan says weakly.

“I’m making breakfast. Are eggs okay? You can shower, if you’d like. Your clothes are on the dresser in the bedroom.”

Dan rubs the back of his neck. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

Kevin waves his spatula in the air. “Don’t worry about it.”

Dan nods and follows the hall back to the bedroom and finds his clothes right where Kevin said they’d be. He runs his fingers over them before picking them up and sniffing them. They smell like lavender so Dan knows Kevin washed them. He carries them to the bathroom he passed in the hall and closes the door behind him, locking it. There’s a small cactus on the windowsill across from the door and Dan fights the urge to cry. _God,_ does he miss Phil.

He shakes his head and turns on the water, waiting for the mirror to fog over before he climbs in and lets the water erase last night from his skin. He stands in the shower until the water is icy cold and then gets out, grabbing a towel from the rack above the toilet. He wraps it around his waist and stares at his body in the mirror.

He turns away and pulls on his clothes.

Dan walks back into the kitchen and sits down at the table, yawning. “Feeling better?” Kevin asks, sliding a plate of food towards Dan.

Dan nods. “Yeah. Um, thanks, again.”

Kevin waves him off. “It’s no trouble, really.” He takes the seat across from Dan and begins eating.

“So, um, you said I was smashed?” Dan says, not looking up from his plate.

“Completely.”

Dan groans. “Did I do anything stupid?”

“I don’t know what you did before I brought you back here, but you did press all the buttons in the lift and call me Phil.” Kevin explains.

Dan buries his face in his hands. “I’m _so_ sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. I honestly don’t mind.”

“I can’t help but feel bad, though. I barely know you and I just crashed at your place. And you took care of me when I was drunk.”

“You’re an easy drunk. Besides, you passed out in the lift so I just carried you here. And I kinda dropped you on your butt, so sorry.”

“Oh, god!”

“It’s fine. You weigh, like, nothing.”

“What? No, I weigh like, thirteen stone.”

“Felt more like ten.”

“Huh.” Dan pushes the food around on his plate and that’s when he realizes he hasn’t been eating as much as he used to. He shovels some of the eggs into his mouth. “Maybe I’ve lost weight.”

“You are under a lot of stress,” Kevin comments.

“What?”

“Your roommate is Phil, right? He’s, um, gone, right?”

Dan puts his fork down. “Yeah.”

“I’d be pretty stressed if my girlfriend left to go to war.”

“Phil and I aren’t dating.”

“What?”

“We’re just best friends.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Kevin looks away. “I just assumed.”

Dan sighs. “It’s fine, I guess.”

“Are you done?” Kevin gestures to Dan’s mostly full plate. Dan nods. He takes his plate and walks over to the sink. “Stop me if this is invasive,” Kevin begins, “but do you have feelings for him?”

“I don’t- No. I don’t,” Dan states firmly.

“It’s just- last night, when you kept calling me Phil, I said ‘Let’s get you to sleep.’ And you winked and said sarcastically, ‘Sure, sleep.’”

Dan doesn’t know how to respond. “Um, I should go.”

“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay. Um, where are my keys and stuff?”

“By the front door. You know how to get to the tube from here?” Kevin asks.

“I’m sure I can figure it out. Thanks again,” Dan says, pulling the door open.

“Hey, Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“Um, good luck.”

“Thanks.”

 

**6 November 2015**

_Dear Phil,_

_I did end up doing Spooky Week. Chris joined me because I was too scared to play by myself. I didn’t fall out of any chairs this time. Why can’t everyone just forget that happened?_

_Halloween was fun, I guess. I did end up going to a party, but I can’t tell you whose because I literally cannot remember. I got absolutely smashed. I know, right? Luckily, someone was nice and let me crash at their place. I still feel bad about that, though. Maybe I should send them a thank you card or something._

_I’m placing this letter in a care package I’m sending you. It’s full of candy and cookies and all that fun shit. The cookies might be a bit stale by the time they reach you, but hopefully you won’t mind._

_I don’t know if I told you, but I started an ISG for people with loved ones at war. I got a lot of questions and I tried my best to answer some. I hope I’m helping people._

_Are you feeling better? I haven’t gotten any letters from you for a while. Maybe they just got lost in the mail or they haven’t mailed them yet. I hope you’re getting these. I’d prefer if you could call or Skype, but I’ll take what I can get._

_All the love,_

_Dan_

 

**10 November 2015**

Dan is at a different support group. He checked the flyer multiple times to make sure it was for anyone with loved ones at war, not just spouses or partners. He fixes his fringe in the reflection of the window outside the church then walks inside. It’s quiet and dim, the only light coming from the lit candles. Dan checks the flyer again then begins looking for the stairs leading to the basement.

As he descends the stairs, he can hear the hum of many people talking and he slows down. He knows this is supposed to help, but he’s not one to really open up about his feelings. Dan sucks it up, though, and continues walking down the stairs.

There are at least sixteen people already down there, milling around before the meeting actually starts. Dan beelines to the table with food and drinks and pours himself some coffee into a styrofoam cup. It’s watery and lukewarm but Dan gulps it down anyway. He glances at the platter of cookies and grabs two, remembering that Kevin mentioned he probably lost weight.

He sits down in one of the metal chairs in the circle and pulls out his phone. He places the cookies on his thigh and holds his coffee cup between his thighs and begins scrolling through Twitter.

@danisnotonfire: _currently at a support group. send me good vibes._

He exits the app and opens Tumblr.

Dan always feels out of place in new situations. He usually has Phil with him to keep his anxiety level low, but Phil is obviously not there. He scrolls through his dash without really paying attention to it. Keeping his head down, he lets his eyes flit around the room. He sees more people come down the stairs and he slinks lower in his chair. He puts away his phone and picks up one of his cookies, breaking off pieces to eat. He eats slowly, brushing crumbs off his pants as they fall.

Someone sits next to him and Dan tries very hard not to scoot away from her. There are plenty of open seats but she chose the one closest to him. Dan pulls his phone out again, intent on avoiding conversation.

“I’m Lottie,” she says, glancing sideways at Dan.

“Dan.”

“First time here?”

“Mhmm,” he hums.

“Same here,” Lottie says.

Dan puts his phone down again because he just feels rude having it out when someone is talking to him. He picks up his second cookie. “Do you want some of this?”

“Oh, um. Sure,” Lottie says and Dan breaks it in half and hands her the bigger half. “Thanks,” she says.

Dan nods. “Why’re you here?” he asks.

“My best friend enlisted.”

“Me, too.”

“Okay, everyone!” an older man shouts, clapping his hands together. Dan assumes he’s the leader and sits up a bit in his seat, placing the coffee under his chair. “Find a place to sit and we’ll get started.” The people who are still standing quickly find seats and soon everyone is sitting down, waiting to begin. “I see some familiar faces and some new ones. For those of you who have been here before, we’re gonna start like we always do. For those who are here for the first time, here’s what we do: we state our name, our age, who we are missing, and how long they have been gone. Easy enough, right? I’ll start. I’m Oliver and I’m thirty-nine years old. My wife was a foot soldier in the Afghanistan war and was gone for three years. She’s been back for about five years now. Let’s go to the left this time.”

Dan wishes he had chosen a different seat, since he’ll be the fourth person to speak. He swallows and rubs his hands down his jeans. The people before him finish all too quickly and soon enough, Dan has to introduce himself.

“Um, hi. My name’s Dan and I’m twenty-four. Uh, my best friend and roommate, Phil, is away at war. He’s, um, been gone a few months now.”

“Welcome, Dan,” Oliver says, smiling brightly. Dan nods and looks down at his lap.

“Hi. I’m, uh, Lottie. I’m twenty-two and my sister, Victoria, has been gone for eight months.”

The rest of the people in the circle go around and say their stuff and Dan sort of pays attention. Oliver starts talking again. “Okay. Who wants to start today?” A boy, probably no more than sixteen, raises his hand timidly. Oliver beams. “Thomas. How’s your brother doing?”

Thomas shrugs. “Okay, we think. Mum and I haven’t heard from him in a while.” His voice is slow and deep, almost like molasses.

“That must be rough. I’m sorry.”

Thomas shrugs again. “Mum’s just takin’ it really hard, you know? She’s really worried that somethin’ mighta happened. I am, too, I guess. Ben usually sends lots of letters and stuff. We’ve gotten nothin’ for two weeks.”

“Sometimes, it takes a while for letters to be sent out,” a woman in the group says.

The boy nods. “I know. It’s just- What if he’s, like, not okay? He’s my brother. I don’t know what I’d do without him.” Thomas sighs and looks at his hands. “I just needed to get that off my chest. I keep havin’ to be strong for Mum.”

“Why don’t you bring her here?” Lottie asks, resting her elbows on her knees.

“I’ve tried. She says it’s bullshit. ‘Sides, she doesn’t like talkin’ ‘bout Ben.”

The group is quiet for a bit. “Thank you, Thomas,” Oliver finally says.

A woman in her early thirties jumps in. “My husband comes home next month,” she says, beaming. “The kids and I are super excited. I’m a little scared, though.” Her face falls and she begins picking at her nails. “I hear lots of stories about people coming back with PTSD and stuff. Shane and Leo are so young; they wouldn’t understand why their daddy would be different.”

“My son came back with PTSD,” an older man says. “He went back ‘bout a year later. Said it was easier than bein’ home.” The man takes a deep breath. “He’s been gone eighteen months now. I worry, you know? What if he comes back and he’s worse? They say it takes time, but his younger sisters didn’t understand that. They were crushed when he went back.”

The woman from before says, “I don’t want my boys to experience that. It’s already so hard for them.”

Dan sinks down in his chair. All these people have worse problems than he does. Phil writes often and calls when he can. He’s only had one scare and he’s only been gone a few months. To the people around him, Dan’s problems are nothing. He doesn’t belong there. He doesn’t belong with these people who have it so much worse. He begins to stand up.

“Where’re you going?” Oliver asks, stopping Dan.

Dan fidgets. “Um, home.”

“Why?”

Dan looks at the ground. “My issues are a walk in the park to you guys. I don’t wanna talk about shit that’s nothing to you all. It would just be rude.”

Oliver’s face softens and that’s exactly what Dan didn’t want: pity. “Your problems are no more or no less important than anybody else’s. Why don’t you sit back down and talk with us? It’s your best friend, Phil, that’s gone, correct?”

Dan sits down slowly. “Um, yeah.”

“And you guys live together?” Dan nods. “For how long?”

“Two-ish years.”

“Does anyone else live with you guys?” Dan shakes his head. “It’s hard, living in a place that’s usually noisy.”

“Yeah,” Dan says slowly. “And it’s not that Phil was ever very loud. We’re usually on our laptops all day. It was always comforting to just hear him clicking away on his keyboard or something. And if he’s not on his laptop or doing something else, he’s making a video in his room.” Dan cringes. “That sounded wrong. No, we’re both, um, YouTubers. Sometimes I’ll hear him making those videos but now he’s, uh, obviously not. It’s the little things.”

“I get it,” a guy Dan’s age says. “When my buddy left, every little noise would scare the shit outta me.”

Dan nods. “And it’s not just the living alone part that’s weird, it’s the going places alone. It’s not like Phil and I are aggressively co-dependent; I can go to shops and stuff alone. I was just so used having him by my side in new situations. It’s just nice having someone you know and trust by your side, you know?” Dan twists his hands together. “I just miss him a lot.”

The rest of the meeting goes by smoothly and Dan even offers some advice to some people. He feels better by the end of it and is definitely considering coming back next month. He’s just about to exit the church when someone taps his shoulder. He turns around and smiles when he sees that it’s Lottie. “Hi,” he says.

She grins. “Hi. Would you be interested in getting coffee? There’s a Starbucks a few blocks from here.”

Dan checks his phone. It’s only half past noon and he has nowhere to be. “I’d love to,” he answers, pocketing his phone and buttoning up his jacket.

They walk towards the Starbucks making idle conversation. Dan learns that Lottie is a nurse and loves to draw in her spare time. She claims to be a master at Mario Kart and shows Dan that she can touch her nose with her tongue.

“Okay, the space between your nose and mouth is really small,” Dan argues when he fails to do the same.

Lottie laughs. “It is not! It’s proportional to my face!”

“Then you have a super tiny face.”

“At least I’m not seven feet tall.”

“I can see over people’s heads.”

“Shut up,” Lottie pouts, bumping Dan with her shoulder.

Dan pulls the door to the Starbucks open for Lottie and walks in after her. “Is Victoria older or younger than you?”

Lottie purses her lips as she studies the menu. “Younger. She had just turned eighteen when she enlisted.” She faces Dan. “What about Phil?”

“He’s twenty-eight, so, older.”

They order their drinks and sit down at a table in the corner. “What did you say you guys do again?” she asks, sipping her drink.

Dan laughs awkwardly. “We’re, um, YouTubers.”

“Oh! So you, like, make videos? Like Tyler Oakley?”

Dan nods. “Yeah.”

“I’ll have to check you out.”

Dan grins. “Some of it is totally cringe worthy.”

Lottie giggles then focuses on her drink. “You don’t have to answer this if it’s too personal or something, but why did Phil decide to enlist?”

Dan wraps his hands around his cup and looks out the window to his left. “He’s always been a nice guy. Always wanting to help and stuff. He thought he could do more good over there.” He looks back at Lottie. “What about your sister?”

“Our dad was in the military. I guess she just wanted to follow in his footsteps.”

Dan nods. “So, what kind of things do you draw?” he asks.

Lottie brightens at the question and Dan mentally high fives himself. “I like doing mainly pencil drawings. I like drawing people more than anything.”

“I’ll have to ask you to draw me sometime,” Dan chuckles.

“I would love to!”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah! I’m basically drawing all the same people because I always feel weird drawing people without their permission.”

“Oh. Well, if you’d like, you can draw me. I just have to see the finished product.”

Lottie grins widely. “Would it be okay if I took a photo of you? For reference?”

“Only if you set it as my contact photo in your phone.”

Lottie and Dan exchange numbers and Dan’s about to take an awkward selfie when Lottie snatches her phone away. “I want it to be candid.” When she sees the look of confusion on his face, she explains, “Not posed. Natural.”

Dan grins. “Good luck with that. I’m derping most of the time.”

“I think you look quite handsome most of the time.” Dan blushes and looks away and that’s when Lottie snaps the photo. “Perfect,” she says, handing her phone to Dan.

Dan looks at the photo and smiles softly. His cheeks are a light pink and the sun shining through the glass is catching on his eyelashes and making his eyes look more amber. His lips are upturned slightly. “I like it.”

“Me too,” Lottie says. She looks at the time. “It’s quarter past one. I’m supposed to meet my mum at one thirty. I best be going.”

Dan nods and stands up with her. “Same here. Um, have good day.” He holds out his hand for her to shake and she rolls her eyes.

“You twat,” she says and pulls Dan into a hug. “See you later!” she yells and she skips out of the Starbucks.

Dan feels better than he has in months.

 

**13 November 2015**

@bamflesterr: _@danisnotonfire when are you gonna do the next #WarInternetSupportGroup your last vid really helped me out_

@dan-howelll: _@danisnotonfire pls do another #WarInternetSupportGroup!!_

@danisnotonfire: _due to an overwhelming amount of requests, I will be doing another #WarInternetSupportGroup tweet me your questions!_

 

**16 November 2015**

“It’s a good thing you’re doing, the internet support group” Martyn says over the phone.

Dan smiles. “I feel good doing it. Especially when people tell me it helps them.” Dan sits down at his desk and wiggles the mouse to wake his computer up. “Would you like to join me for the next one?”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah! I would love to!”

Dan grins. “Great.” He pauses. “I might have sort of broke down during the last one. It’s- It’s hard.”

“I imagine it would be,” Martyn says quietly.

“How’re your mum and dad doing?”

“As well as they can be with their son being shot at.” Martyn sighs and Dan hears rustling on the line. “Sorry. That was a bit crude.”

Dan leans back in his chair and closes his eyes. “No, it’s fine.”

“Have you heard anything from Phil?”

“Not since before Halloween. Have you?”

“No.” Dan bites down on his lower lip. “Should we be scared or something?”

Dan rubs his eyes. “I don’t- I don’t think so. They say sometimes it takes a while for mail to be sent out so maybe that’s the issue.”

“I sure hope so.”

 

**22 November 2015**

“Phil?”

“Hi, Dan,” Phil says and Dan can hear the smile in his voice.

“It’s so good to hear your voice; you’ve no idea,” Dan admits, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Yours, too. Sorry I haven’t called or anything.”

“It’s okay,” Dan says. “I was just really worried.”

“There was a sand storm and it knocked some things out. We just got the phones back online and they’re working on the Internet now.”

“I was so worried,” Dan whispers, letting his eyes fall closed.

“I’m sorry, Dan. I really am.” Dan can hear Phil’s labored breathing over the phone.

“How’re you?” he asks, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

“I’m- I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me, Phil.”

“What do you want me to say, Dan?” Phil snaps. “That everything is just dandy? That watching people die isn’t having any affect on me at all? It’s all so fucking stupid. I _hate_ this.”

Dan says slowly, “You never swear.”

“Before now I had never killed anyone, either, so I guess things change.” Dan’s breath catches in his throat. “I want to go home. I want to go back to you.”

Dan’s voice is hoarse. “I want you here, too.”

 

**3 December 2015**

_Dear Dan,_

_Happy Christmas!_

_Yes, I know it’s only the first week of December but I can’t help it! I love this season. It does feel a little weird without all the snow. It’s still really hot over here, though the temperature has dropped a little. Why am I talking about the weather with you? I guess I just don’t know how to approach this next topic._

_Remember when I mentioned asking to go home for a few days during Christmas? I was denied. I’m pretty bummed out if I’m being honest. I’m sure you are, too._

_I miss you a lot. I miss seeing your face. Can I ask something really weird? Will you send me a photo of you? It would be nice to have something like that. Nothing much has changed. It’s pretty quiet over here. I’ve just been doing supply runs with a few other guys. It’s easy. I’ve been playing a lot of card games. My poker face is crap, by the way. ^.^_

_I hope you’re doing okay. How’s the radio show? How’s the gaming channel? What about your channel? I miss YouTube. Tell everyone I say hi!_

_Love,_

_Phil_  

 

**12 December 2015**

“What do I even get Phil?” Dan moans, setting down a plushie he was looking at.

“What you normally would,” PJ answers as he checks the price on a board game.

“No, like. Do I get him something to remind him of home like a photo or something he would find comfort in?”

PJ shrugs. “Why not get him both?”

Dan blinks. “I guess I could do that.”

“Your brain is turning to mush,” PJ laughs.

“It really is,” he mumbles.

PJ smiles softly. “Are you okay?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Dan shouts. “Phil’s the one everyone should be worried about, for fuck’s sake!”

“Dan, stop shouting,” PJ whispers, grabbing his wrist. “People are staring.”

Dan glares at him. “Let them bloody stare! I don’t give a shit anymore! I just want to fucking die!”

“You don’t mean that…”

“And what if I do, Peej?”

PJ’s face hardens. “Then just go fucking kill yourself then, Dan! Solve all your problems! Don’t worry about Phil getting a letter from your parents or his telling him you killed yourself! Don’t worry about Phil losing all morale and just fucking giving up! Don’t think about how any of this will affect anyone else! Be the selfish bastard you always claim you are!”

Dan stumbles backward, back hitting a shelf full of plushies. “PJ…”

“You’re sick, Dan! You’re losing weight! You don’t go out anymore!”

“Thank you, doctor PJ, for telling me what I already know!” Dan shouts, crowding into PJ’s personal space. “Thank you for reminding me about my fucking depression!”

“Get the help you need! Stop moping around and see a doctor!”

“I can’t!”

“Why?”

“Because I have to stay strong!” Dan screams.

“For who?”

“Phil!”

PJ shakes his head. “Don’t you understand? Phil wants you to be as okay as you can be. If he knew you were this messed up, he would urge you to see someone.”

“You’re… right.”

PJ sighs. “Come on. You’re staying at my place tonight. We’ll order Mexican and watch crappy movies and eat ice cream.”

Despite it all, Dan smiles a little. “What are we? Teenage girls?”

“Yes. Don’t have a masculinity crisis now.”

“I don’t have any masculinity to lose.”

“Ha. Let’s go.” PJ leads Dan out of the shopping center and Dan wonders why he let himself get so bad.

_Because Phil always took care of you._

Dan decides now would be a good time to start caring for himself.

 

**19 December 2015**

Dan lays in his bed, staring up at the ceiling above him. It’s half past one in the morning and he still hasn’t slept. The sounds of the city outside are muted by his window. He rolls onto his side and stares out his window. The streetlamp outside illuminates the snow falling in sheets. It’s beautiful, really.

 

**22 December 2015**

There are sleeping pills in the med cabinet in the bathroom. They were for Phil when he had issues falling asleep. Trazodone. It knocks you the fuck out if you need to sleep. Dan leaves it sitting on the bathroom sink.

 

**25 December 2015**

Dan’s phone is buzzing on his bedside table, effectively waking him up. He feels around the surface until he finds his phone and slides his thumb across the screen. “Hello?”

“Happy Christmas, Dan!” his mother yells, causing Dan to pull the phone away from his ear. He smiles.

“Happy Christmas, Mum,” he says, voice thick with sleep.

“Are you just now getting up?”

Dan rubs his eyes and sits up. “Yeah. Why?”

“It’s half past eleven, you bum!”

Dan spares a quick glance at his phone before pressing it back to his ear. “Late night.”

“Waiting up for Father Christmas, were you? Silly, he doesn’t come unless you’re asleep,” his mum laughs.

Dan rolls his eyes. “Yes, Mum. I was waiting up for Father Christmas because I, your twenty-four-year-old son, still believe in him.”

His mother sighs. “Don’t ruin the magic, Dan. Are you doing anything to celebrate?”

Dan stretches and pops his back. “I was just gonna lounge around.”

“On Christmas?” his mum asks, shock in her voice.

“Um, yeah? I’ll be around to see you and Dad tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you come today, sweetie?”

Dan leans his head against the wall and sighs. “I’m not up to it today, Mum.”

There’s a long pause on the other end until: “Are you okay, Daniel?”

She used his full name. Dan wills the wall the absorb him. “I’m fine, Mum.”

“Do you need to go back on your meds?”

“No! Mum, trust me. I’m fine.”

Dan’s mother, smart as she is, drops the subject. “Okay. I trust you. We’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“‘Course. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Dan’s about to hang up when his mum speaks again. “And Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t do anything you’d regret.”

Dan hangs up and tosses his phone onto the bed. It bounces and lands on the floor. Dan sighs. As if it wasn’t already broken enough.

Christmas is almost halfway over and Dan has just woken up. He pulls on a hoodie and slips on his shoes before grabbing his keys and wallet and walking out the door. The tube, unsurprisingly, is moderately crowded. Dan is not the only one alone during the holiday. He smiles and wishes a happy Christmas to those who happen to make eye contact with him. They pretend they are happy and as soon as the pleasantries are over, Dan’s face falls back into its frown.

Snow is falling lightly when he steps off the tube and he pulls his hood up, shielding his head from the cold. With his hands stuffed in his pockets, he trudges to the Starbucks and pushes the door open, the jingle familiar to him. He orders a coffee (black) and sits down in a seat in a corner, ready to begin wallowing in self pity.

Dan pulls his phone out from his back pocket and picks off a piece of the screen. He has a load of Christmas texts, none of which he replies to. He sits at his table, drinks his coffee, and wonders why the world is so cruel to him when he’s literally done nothing wrong.

His phone buzzes and despite knowing it’s yet another Christmas text, he checks it.

**From: Lottie**

_u alone this holiday, too?_

Dan almost considers not responding, but Lottie is probably the only one who could understand what he’s going through. He types out a response.

**To: Lottie**

_yeah. why aren’t you with your family?_

  **From: Lottie**

_they live up north. couldn’t afford the commute._

Before Dan can think of a response to that, his phone chimes.

**From: Lottie**

_what about your family?_

**To: Lottie**

_I’m seeing them tomorrow._

On a whim, Dan sends:

_text me your address and Starbucks order. I’ll head your way._

Dan’s already gathering his keys when his phone buzzes. He checks the address, sees it’s not that far of a walk, and orders her drink and another coffee. He tells the barista to keep the change and walks out the door.

It’s gotten colder and windier and Dan hunches his shoulders to block out the cold. The wind bites at his nose and stings his eyes. While the snow is beautiful once it’s stuck to the ground, it’s one evil bastard in the air. Dan finds the building quickly and steps inside, shaking out his hair and almost spilling the coffee.

Lottie’s flat is on the fourth floor and Dan makes the decision to climb the stairs instead of using the lift. He’s taking the steps two at a time when his foot gets caught behind his calf and he goes sprawling forward, spilling the drinks all over himself.

“Fuck!” he shouts, slipping as he tries to get his footing. The front of his shirt and trousers are wet. Luckily, his coffee had cooled a bit before his fall, so nothing burned. The only thing damaged is his dignity. “Fuck everything,” he mumbles and gathers up the now empty cups and begins his search for Lottie’s door.

He knocks on it and waits shamefully for the door to open. It swings open to reveal Lottie, dressed in a dark green Christmas jumper and navy blue jeans. She takes in Dan’s dripping state and her mouth drops open.

There’s a split second of silence before they both burst into laughter. Lottie clutches her gut and leans over, wheezing, and Dan’s laughing so hard no noise comes out. They finally calm down, both wiping tears from their eyes.

“Jesus,” Lottie says breathlessly. She giggles and shakes her head. “Get inside and tell me what happened.”

After Dan explains what he had done and Lottie finds him some of her boyfriend’s clothes, they go to the stairwell and clean up the mess, giggling quietly.

“Not exactly how I pictured my Christmas if I’m being honest,” Lottie laughs, dropping a soaked paper towel on the ground next to her.

“Better than being alone, right?” Dan mumbles, cursing when his paper towel rips.

Lottie shrugs. “I don’t know.”

He looks up at her. “Neither do I.”

 

**26 December 2015**

There are different types of loneliness, Dan thinks as he rides the train to his childhood home. There’s loneliness when you are actually alone. When the room around you is quiet and the lights are dim. There’s loneliness when you miss someone who was once there. There’s loneliness when you’re surrounded by people you don’t know and you have no one to interact with. Dan rests his head against the window of the train, ignoring the way the vibrations rattle his brain.

Perhaps the worst kind is when you feel alone surrounded by those you love and those who love you.

When Dan was younger, this loneliness was more familiar to him. He wore it like an old pair of jeans; comfortable and soft. He knew how to hide this feeling from his friends and family and the mask he put on became his face, welded so nicely to his true form that even he could not find the seam. Then he met Phil, and Phil found that seam and slowly picked it apart. Dan was happy to shed that mask. He was happy to discard that loneliness he knew so well. With Phil around, Dan didn’t feel so lonely anymore. It was like he was born with a Phil-shaped hole in his soul. Phil fit so perfectly, so seamlessly, into his life that Dan could not imagine his life before Phil.

If asked to make a timeline of his life, Dan would not start with his birth. He would start with the day he met Phil. That’s truly when his life began. Before Phil, it was just black and white.

And maybe Dan is a bit cliche in thinking all this. Everyone feels this way about the one they love. But it’s different with Dan and Phil. Dan could count on one hand the number of major arguments they have had. He could tell you off the top of his head what Phil likes to eat on certain days and how long it takes him to film and edit a video. He could tell you how Phil washes his clothes or organizes his socks. Their lives are so intertwined that Dan cannot tell where one begins and the other ends.

They’re like tree roots. Two trees, two saplings, sharing the same ground, the same sunlight, the same nutrients. They grow together and their roots tangle. Their roots tangle so much that if one were to die, the other would as well. Their roots tangle so much that they are essentially one tree, sharing the same water and soil.

Dan knows he and Phil are soulmates. Maybe not soulmates in the way most people think, but Dan believes that the two of them would have found each other eventually; be it through YouTube or a chance encounter or even half-way across the world.

Dan knows that he loves Phil and that Phil loves him. That’s enough most days, but the days when Dan feels especially lonely, when he lays on his bed and stares at his ceiling until the sun sets and the moon rises, that love is not enough. Dan is a very physical personal, in the sense that he likes things to be tangible. He needs to touch things to know they are real. On his bad nights, he thinks Phil is just a figment of his imagination, that he’s never existed.

The point is, with Phil gone, Dan feels lonely again. Dan feeling lonely has never ended well. He usually ends up doing something stupid. He tries to unintentionally harm himself. He’ll walk dangerously close to the road when walking down the pavement or cross streets with seconds to spare before a car would hit him. He drinks until he can’t see straight, leaves candles lit longer than necessary, and “forgets” to lock his front door based on the off chance than some murderous robber will choose his home to ransack.

Dan sits up straighter, a headache beginning to take shape because of the vibrations of the train. He readjusts his headphones and checks the time: 10:42. His parents aren’t expecting him until a little past one, so he will have a lot of time to kill when he gets to Wokingham. He sighs and pulls out his phone, deciding to answer some texts he had ignored the day before.

The first is from Louise:

_happy christmas! hope your day goes well. :)_

That doesn’t warrant a response necessarily, so Dan leaves it unanswered and moves on to the next.

**From: PJ**

_how’re you doing? is your day going well?_

Dan taps out a short response before looking at a text from Chris.

_happy christmas, ho._

His phone buzzes with a new text and clicks the top of his screen to view the whole message. It’s from his brother, Ashton:

_mum told me you were coming in today. haven’t seen you in a while. any chance you wanna come earlier so we can have some bro time?_

Dan smiles.

_don’t say bro time. you sound like a lad. i’m actually on the train right now. i’ll be there in about fifteen minutes._

**From: Ashton**

_we can get a cheeky nandos. i gotta tell you about my mate, ian. he’s such a ledge!_

**To: Ashton**

_i hate you >:( _

The train screeches to a halt, Dan jolting forward with the momentum. He’s a town over from Wokingham and now his skin is itching to see his brother. Ashton is six years younger, but that doesn’t change the fact that the two of them are very close. Dan has always looked out for Ashton and vice versa. When Dan’s fans started bugging Ashton about him, Dan persuaded Ash to delete his social media. It was hard for Ashton, as it would be for any teenager, but in the end they both ended up happier. Dan frowns, remembering when his brother called him angrily about three years ago.

“They won’t stop!” Ashton shouted.

Dan was thoroughly pissed. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he mumbled, pacing his room. “Just delete your account.”

“What?” Ash sputtered.

“Delete it. As much as I can try, I can’t make them stop.”

“Damn it!” Ashton yelled.

“Language,” Dan growled. He combed his fingers through his hair and sighed. “I’m really sorry, Ash.”

“‘S’not your fault, Dee,” his brother said. “It’s okay.”

Dan smiles. Even at fifteen, Ashton was already more mature than him. Ashton would go far in life; Dan knew that much.

The train comes to a sudden stop again. Dan’s knees collides with the seat in front of him, earning him a glare from the man occupying that seat. Dan apologizes and stands up quickly, balling up his headphones and stuffing them in his pocket. He climbs off the train and clambers over to the ticket booth, sending a text to Ashton as he waits in line.

**To: Ashton**

_i’m at the station. any chance you could pick me up?_

**From: Ashton**

_two minutes out_

Dan shoves his phone in his pocket and approaches the ticket window. “One ticket for the latest train from here to London.”

The lady clacks away on her computer and slides Dan his ticket. He pushes a few pounds under the glass and nods his thanks. He stands on the pavement, looking for Ashton and their family’s telltale red van. It putters up and comes to a jerky stop. Dan pulls the door open expecting a warm haven from the cold air outside.

“What the fuck?” Dan says.

“Hello to you, too,” Ashton intones.

“It’s freezing in here.”

“Yeah, the heat doesn’t work.”

“I can see that.” Dan zips his jacket up and looks at his brother. “Jesus, you got old.”

Ashton snorts. “That happens, you know.”

Dan leans over the middle console, squinting at Ashton. “Is that stubble?” He leans closer. “Holy shit! Did you get a lip piercing?”

He shoves Dan’s face away. “Where do you want to eat?”

Dan leans back in his seat. “I’m actually sorta feeling Nando’s.”

Ashton rolls his eyes. “Who’s the lad now?”

“I’ve missed you a lot, you know?”

“Me too, Dee. It seems like you never call.”

“I-”

“I know, I know,” Ash interrupts. “You’re busy and I understand that. I’ve just- I’ve missed you, is all.” He clears his throat and puts the car in drive. “Enough sappy stuff. Let's go.”

The drive to Nando’s only takes about four minutes, but the amount of casual banter Dan and his brother have might as well cover decades.

“You’re majoring in nursing?” Dan asks, swirling his straw in his drink.

Ash nods. “I’m taking a gap year now, but yeah. I wanna, like, do something in medicine, but not go through all the schooling to be a doctor.”

“What universities are you looking at?”

“God, you sound just like Mum,” he teases. “I’m actually looking into Manchester. Maybe Nottingham or Leeds. I’m also considering studying abroad.”

“Like, in the states?”

Ashton nods.

Dan lets out a low whistle. “If I’m being honest, I would miss you.”

“You would?”

“‘Course I would. You’re my little brother.” Dan shrugs and takes a bite of his chicken. “How was your Christmas?” he asks around a mouthful of food.

Ashton pushes his plate to the center of the table and leans back, arms reaching towards the ceiling in a stretch. “I spent it with Mum and Dad and the family. They all miss you, you know. Zach and Katie were asking about you.”

“Were they?”

Zach and Katie are the two cousins closest in age to Dan. When they were younger, they were really close. Their dad, Dan’s mum’s brother, lived in a house about a fifteen minute walk away. Dan wouldn’t even consider them cousins; more like siblings. Dan smiles.

“How’re they doing?”

“Zach’s almost done with Uni. He wants to be a teacher. Katie’s actually engaged. His name’s Matthew. Real nice bloke.”

“Damn. I miss them.”

“I think they’re still in town. I could text them and see if they wanna meet up somewhere.”

Dan says, “God, please do that. I haven’t seen them in so long.”

“What about bro time?” he teases, pulling his phone out nevertheless.

“You know you can visit me whenever,” Dan says, taking a few pounds from his wallet and slipping them into the pad the waiter had dropped off.

“I don’t wanna intrude.”

Dan snorts. “Intrude? Ash, you’d be doing me a favor. I hardly go out anymore.”

“Why’s that?” he asks absently. Dan doesn’t answer, just stares at his lap. “Oh, shite. Sorry, Dee. I didn’t- I forgot- Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” says Dan with a wave of his hand.

Dan can see the blush crawling up Ashton’s face and can’t help but feel slightly guilty. It’s not Ashton’s fault. Most people don’t know how closely intertwined he and Phil are. Some can speculate, but Dan doesn’t believe they could ever come close to describing their relationship.

They’re more than best friends, but not in a relationship. And if Dan were to be completely honest, he doesn’t _like_ Phil as more than a friend. Phil, Dan thinks, is one of those people, that if he asked if Dan wanted to fuck, Dan would say yes. Dan, however, would not actively try to seduce Phil into his bed. No matter what people say, Dan and Phil are strictly best friends.

“Zach texted back,” Ashton says, jerking Dan from his thoughts. “He’s hanging out at Katie and Matthew’s place.”

“You know where it is?”

“Yeah. You ready?”

Dan nods and pulls his jacket on, following Ashton out to the car.

 

**2 January 2016**

_Dear Phil,_

_You missed the_ Sherlock _special! I recorded it, though, so we can watch it when you get back. It was great, by the way. Beautifully executed and it furthered the plot and gave me an idea of how Moriarty came back. We can speculate when you get back. We have to wait until 2017 for the next season still. At least we have the special to hold us over._

_I hope you’re doing well. Did you celebrate Christmas at all? How’re things over there? My Christmas was good; I spent it with a girl I met in a support group. Her name’s Lottie. I know you would like her. I went to see my family on Boxing Day. Ash has gotten so old. He’s going to major in nursing. How cool is that? I’m so proud of him. I saw my cousins, too. I’m sure I’ve told you about them. Zach and Katie? Anyway, Zach is almost done with Uni. He’s going to be a teacher. And Katie’s engaged! She’s only a year older than I am, so I kinda feel like my life is slipping away._

_You turn twenty-nine soon. How weird is that thought? Hopefully I’ll hear from you before your birthday. I miss you lots. Come home soon._

_All the love,_

_Dan_

 

**13 January 2016**

@danisnotonfire: _trying to figure out what send phil for his birthday. any suggestions?_

@phantrash1: _@danisnotonfire nudes_  

@dil_______howlter: _@danisnotonfire hair dye_

@jamiexxsmith: _@danisnotonfire a cactus_

 

**24 January 2016**

“Can you see me?”

“You’re a bit blurry and you’re lagging but I can see you.”

A grin breaks out on Phil’s face. “Hi.”

Dan mirrors his grin, adjusting the angle of his laptop. “Hi.”

“How’ve you been?”

“That’s a loaded question. I was worried because I hadn’t heard from you in almost two months.” Dan tries to keep the cynicism out of his voice. He knows it probably wasn’t Phil’s fault, but Dan feels he needs to direct the anger towards something.

Phil rubs the back of his neck. “I’m really sorry about that. There was an airstrike and then another suicide bombing and-”

“Wait,” Dan interrupts. “There was an airstrike? And a bombing? I didn’t hear about those.”

“Probably because the casualty rate was low. There were a few cuts and bruises and the bomb went off too soon and only the bomber was killed. I’m fine though. I did get an awesome scar on my arm, though.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay. How’re your, um, friends?”

“They’re all alive if that’s what you’re asking.”

Dan blinks and doesn’t respond.

“Sorry. That was crude.”

Dan plays with the hem of his shirt and speaks slowly. “You seem… different.”

Phil’s eyebrows crinkle together. “How?”

The younger shrugs. “I dunno. More blatant? Vulgar?”

“It’s a whole different culture here, Dan,” he chuckles.

Dan sighs, not knowing how to explain to Phil that he doesn’t like the change. “I miss you,” he says finally.

Phil’s eyes drop to look at the floor. “I miss you, too.”

 

**30 January 2016**

“Daaaaaaaaan, my man,” Martyn greets over the phone.

“Are you drunk?” Dan asks, placing the kettle back on the stove.

Martyn giggles. “No. Maybe.”

“Why are you drunk?”

“Why aren’t you?” he retorts.

Dan pauses. “Good point.”

“‘S my baby brother’s birthday!” he shouts, causing Dan to wrench the phone away from his ear.

“It is.”

“He’s- He’s twenty-nine! Can you- Can you believe that?” he continues.

“I can’t,” says Dan.

“He’s so fucking _old!_ ” Martyn laughs again, but it sounds all wrong. “I mean, in the grand scheme of things, he’s pretty young, but, like- like, when _I_ think about it, he’s so old! But he’s also so young!” He laughs drily. “He’s gonna die, Dan! We all know it!”

“Don’t say that,” Dan whispers.

Martyn hiccups. “Why- Why not? Phil’s gonna die and we- we can’t stop it!” He laughs again and Dan is actually scared.

“Martyn. Martyn, stop,” Dan pleads.

“He’s gonna di-ie!” he sings. “My baby brother is gonna- is gonna die! Ha!”

“Martyn!”

There’s a long pause, Dan’s heavy breaths echoing over the phone. “He loooooves you,” Martyn finally says. “Like, a- a ton! And he’s gonna die and you’ll never hear him say it!” The line clicks and Dan is left alone on Phil’s birthday, knowing Martyn is probably right.


	4. February-March 2016

**6 February 2016**

“Daniel Howell?” the receptionist calls. Dan looks up from his phone. “Dr. Vansaun is ready for you.”

Dan stands up from his chair and slips his phone into his back pocket. He walks down the hall to the last door and knocks on the frame. A woman in her early forties with soft brown skin looks up from a stack of papers. She smiles. “Daniel?”

“Just Dan is fine,” he says, stepping into the room.

“Please, take a seat.” She gestures to the couch in front of her desk and he sits down awkwardly in the center. Dr. Vansaun pushes her papers aside and leans forward on her elbows. “How are you today?”

Dan shrugs. “Okay, I guess.”

“If you were okay you wouldn’t be here.”

“You asked how I was today.”

The doctor’s lips quirk up. “How are you in general?”

“Pretty shitty,” he answers.

“Why’s that?”

“Doesn’t it tell you in my chart or whatever?”

“I’m sure it does, but I want to hear you say it.”

He scoffs. “Kinda sadistic, isn’t it?”

She shrugs.

“My best friend is getting shot at.”

Dan can tell Dr. Vansaun is affronted for a moment, but she quickly recovers. “Care to elaborate?”

“He enlisted. And now he’s getting shot at.”

“So he’s fighting in a war?”

“No; he’s selling ice cream,” he bites out. He backpedals. “Sorry. That was- That was rude.”

“I’ve heard worse. What’s his name?”

“Phil.”

“And you two are best friends?”

He nods. “Yeah. We- um. We live together.”

“Just the two of you?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

“Must be pretty quiet now.”

He sighs. “Phil was already pretty quiet. Like, we spend most of our time on the Internet so we normally just sit in our lounge together and browse. Or watch TV. Or just hang out reading or something. It just feels weird to be doing these things by myself.”

“So you're lonely.”

“What? No. No, I'm not lonely. I have- I have a plenty of other friends.” Dan combs his fingers through his hair. “I'm not lonely.”

Dr. Vansaun frowns. “You can be lonely but be surrounded by others. You're longing for Phil.”

“Of course I am. I miss him. A lot.”

“I can tell.”

“Great job,” he says with a bit too much sarcasm.

“I’m here to help you, Dan,” Dr. Vansaun says, leaning back in her chair. “I want to help you.”

“So get to it.”

“But I can’t if you don’t let me.”

He narrows his eyes. “I’m here, aren’t I? Isn’t that a start?”

The doctor nods. “Yes; it is. But I need more. You need to make an effort to open up to me.”

“What the hell do you want me to say?”

“When I was sixteen, my older sister went off to university,” she begins. “We were very close; we always had been. She was my best friend and I would do anything for her. When she left, I felt very lonely. I still had my two younger sisters and I was close with them, but I missed my older sister.”

“What’s this got to do with me?”

“You can’t stop missing someone. There’s always going to be that hole there. You can, however, learn to cope. You adjust.”

“He’s been gone almost a year and I haven’t adjusted.”

“It takes time but coming here, talking to me, this is a step in the right direction.” She taps a pen against her desk. “I want you to be honest with me. Can you do that?”

Dan shrugs. “I don’t have any reason to lie.”

“Good. You can call me Kara.”

 

**10 February 2016**

Dan finishes adjusting the camera angle and sits down on his bed next to Martyn. Martyn looks a little fidgety, but Dan chalks that up to nerves. He smiles reassuringly. “Okay, so the camera is recording, but don’t worry about wasting time or messing up. I have plenty of space. We could record for hours.” Martyn nods, wiping his palms on his jeans. “Remember to look at the lens and to enunciate your words. The microphone picks up sound pretty well, so just talk normally. Got it?”

Martyn nods. “I think so, yeah.”

“Alright. Let’s get started.” He plants a smile on his face and begins. “Hello Internet! You guys asked for this, so you shall receive. It’s time for another War Internet Support Group! Cue the music!” Martyn laughs softly at that. “This time, I am joined by the older Lester kid. You all may know him as Martyn.”

He waves at the camera. “Hey, guys!”

“Look! He’s even got Phil’s opening!” Dan pauses and quickly recovers. “He will be helping me answer questions this time. I’m sure he’s got some things to say.”

“Believe me; I’ve got plenty.”

“Alright. Let’s begin!” He opens his laptop and logs in. “This first one is from Gabriella, who is fourteen and from England. Hello, Gabriella! She says, ‘Hi, Dan. My dad enlisted a few months ago and has been gone about three months. I worry about him constantly and I’m always scared. How can I stop this?’”

Martyn chimes in first. “Well, Gabriella, I don’t think there’s really anything you can do to stop worrying. I think it’s normal to be so worried. I know when Phil first got sent out, I was so scared I didn’t leave my house for a few days. I think you have to realize that worrying does nothing to help your dad or you. If you’re like me, and you’re keeping yourself locked up instead of going out, think about what your dad would want. He wouldn’t want you to be put your life on hold until he gets back. You get what I’m saying?”

“I get you, Martyn,” Dan says, “and I couldn’t have said it better myself. You want to read the next one?”

“Sure!” He takes the laptop from him and opens the next email. “This one is from Heber. He’s twenty-three and from Ireland. Hi, Heber! He says, ‘Hi, Dan. My younger brother enlisted as soon as he turned eighteen. I tried my best to convince him not to go, but he wouldn’t listen. When he left, we weren’t on a good note. He won’t answer my calls and he always sends my letters back to me, unopened. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want him to die over there and never get the chance to apologize. What should I do?’”

Dan and Martyn are both quiet for a minute. Martyn finally says, “I’m sorry, Heber.”

“I am, too,” Dan whispers. “There’s nothing you can really do, I think. If he won’t answer your calls and keeps returning your letters, there’s no way to contact him. Can you guys Skype? If you can, maybe sit in on a session with your parents. Chances are he won’t hang up on your parents. You can apologize then, I guess. I wish I had better advice, but that’s all I can think of.”

“Like Dan said,” Martyn starts, “there’s not much you can do other than hope your brother comes around. I’m really sorry.”

Dan keeps his eyes focused on his laptop. “Let’s move on, yeah?” Martyn nods and hands the computer to Dan. “This is from Keith, who’s twelve and from America. Hi Keith!” Dan smiles, trying to put the email from Heber out of his mind. “Keith says, ‘Hi, Dan! My best friend’s dad enlisted and has been gone for a few months. My friend has been really down lately and I don’t know how to help.’”

“That’s really cute,” Martyn muses.

They answer a few more questions and then decide to stop. Dan says he’ll reply to some of the emails later, but Martyn insists on helping.

“You don’t have to,” Dan says for the umpteemth time as he shut off his camera.

“I feel good, though. Like, I’m helping people.”

“I mean, it’s what Phil would want.”

“What?”

“Taking a… bad situation and turning it… okay.”

Martyn laughs. “Yeah. It is. God, he’s a fucking idiot.”

Dan raises an eyebrow. “Took you this long to figure that out?”

“No,” he chuckles. “I’ve always known he’s an idiot. I just never thought he would be idiotic enough to put his life on the line.

Dan snorts and they lapse into silence. After a few minutes, Dan asks, “Wanna get a drink?”

“Hell yes.”

 

**11 February 2016**

“God fucking damn it! Turn it off!” Martyn yells the next morning at seven.

Dan opens his eyes blearily. He has a major headache, his mouth is drier than the Sahara, and he thinks maybe he might vomit. He swallows harshly (which does nothing for his dry throat) and sits up. The room is spinning  and Dan swears he never going to drink again.

“Turn it off!” he yells again, throwing a pillow in Dan’s direction. It misses.

It’s then Dan registers that his phone is ringing and quite loudly at that. “Who the fuck calls at this hour?” Dan moans, patting his pockets and the area around him for his phone. He finds it eventually but just as he’s about to answer, it stops ringing. He doesn’t even bother looking at the number before tossing his phone to the floor. It skitters across the wood floors of his lounge before clanking against the wall.

It’s another few minutes before Dan drifts off to sleep again.

 

**12 February 2016**

_It’s dark_ is Dan’s first thought when he wakes up at one in the morning. His headache has subsided some, but his mouth is still dry. He stands up and finds his balance before trekking to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He gulps down the first glass and fills up another.

He drags himself back into the lounge and flicks on the light, blinking rapidly as his pupils contract. Someone groans and Dan jumps. Who the fuck is in his house?

“Turn the lights off,” the person moans.

Dan lets out a sigh of relief. “Jesus, Mart. I forgot you were here.”

“Turn the lights off,” he groans again.

“It’s nearly one-thirty in the morning. We’ve slept for, like, a day.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

Dan hands him his glass of water. “Drink this and sit up. Where’s my phone?”

Martyn groans but hoists himself up, squeezing his eyes shut in pain as he does so. He accepts the drink and gulps it down quickly, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth. “Didn’t you throw it somewhere?”

Dan nods and looks around on the floor. He finds it in the corner, the screen a little cracked. He really should get a case for it. He rubs his thumb across the screen and clicks the home button. He has a few texts, some notifications, and three missed calls and a voicemail from- shit.

“Fuck!” Dan shouts, unlocking his phone and going to his calls app.

“What? What happened?” Martyn asks, scrambling to stand next to Dan.

He shushes him and plays the voicemail, putting it on speaker.

_“Hey, Dan! It’s me, Phil. This is the third time I’ve called you and you haven’t picked up. I guess you’re busy. Anyway, I was calling because I have some great news! I wish I could tell you in, like, real time, instead of over a voicemail but… I’m wasting time! I’m coming home! But only for two days. I’ll call back soon. Bye.”_

The two are silent for a very long time. Dan’s heart is pounding and his hands are shaking. Home? Phil’s coming home? Dan thinks he might actually pass out. He stumbles backwards; his back hits the wall before his legs give out underneath him and he lands harshly on his ass. Martyn slides down the wall to sit next to him.

“Is it- Is it real?” he asks.

Dan feels a grin spread across his face before he starts hollering for joy. “He’s coming home! Holy shit, he’s coming home!”

 

**18 February 2016**

@danisnotonfire: _guess who’s coming back!!!_

          @phaaaaaaaanguuuuuuuurl: _@danisnotonfire PHIL?? HOLY SHIT_

          @shibedanhowelll: _@danisnotonfire oh my fucking god_

          @thehowelterphamm: _@danisnotonfire take loads of pictures please!!!_

 

**1 March 2016**

Dan’s leg is bouncing, his heel slapping the tiled ground every now and then. A woman a few seats over is glaring at him, clearly annoyed at him for shaking the whole bench. He doesn’t notice her glares. Martyn presses his palm to his knee, stilling his leg. He doesn’t say anything when he draws his hand away. Dan stretches his legs out so they won’t bounce anymore. He wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans and looks around nervously.

The airport isn’t crowded by any means. It’s a typical Tuesday. There are a few kids playing games not too far away and a worn out looking mother trying to get them to calm down. A businessman is talking animately on the phone. Another man is fighting with security, saying he needs his water bottle. It smells like disinfectant and sweat and the sounds of automatic doors screeching open pierce the air every now and then. Dan checks his phone for the eighth time in the past two minutes.

“What if he’s different?” he suddenly blurts out, hands gripping his thighs.

Martyn’s brows knit together. “What do you mean?”

“Like, what if he’s- what if he’s got PTSD?”

“It’s a possibility,” Martyn answers, keeping his eyes forward.

Dan’s leg starts bouncing again. He steals a quick glance to the arrival board; Phil’s flight is slowly moving towards the top. Dan chews his lower lip.

He wants Phil to come home, but he’s scared. He’s scared of how Phil might have changed. He’s scared Phil will be distant and sullen and war weary. He’s scared Phil won’t want to talk to him, won’t want to tell Dan anything.

“Dan, honey,” Karen, Phil’s mum, says loudly and Dan wonders how many times she called his name and he didn’t respond. He looks up. “Here’s your drink.” She holds a paper cup of coffee out to him and he gladly takes it.

“Thank you,” he says, but he doesn’t take a sip from it. He just holds it to stop his hands from shaking.

“Your leg is bouncing,” Karen says.

Dan huffs out a laugh. “It- It does that when I’m nervous.”

“Wanna know a secret?” she asks.

“Um, sure?”

“I’m nervous, too.”

Phil’s flight reaches the top of the arrival board and Dan jumps to his feet. His coffee cup is left on the ground as he stands as close as he can to baggage claim. He’s using his height to his advantage, standing on his tip-toes even, hoping to catch a quick glimpse of Phil. He knows it will be a few minutes before Phil even gets off the plane, but he can’t help himself. Soon, people start filtering out from the terminals, searching for their bags. Dan strains his neck trying to see.

“Do you see him yet?” Nigel, Phil’s dad, asks.

He shakes his head. “No; no, not yet. Maybe he’s-”

Dan cuts off mid-sentence as he catches sight of Phil. He didn’t recognize him at first, with his buzz cut and tanned skin. He’s walking stiffly, a dark green duffle bag thrown over his shoulder. Dan sucks in a deep breath.

“Phil!” he shouts before breaking into a run. He pushes past businessmen and other tired travellers, ignoring shouts of anger directed at him. He slams into Phil’s body, expecting them both to tumble onto the floor with the momentum, but Phil is stronger than when he left and only stumbles back a few steps. There’s no hesitation when Phil returns Dan’s hug, dropping his bag and stronger and more muscular arms enveloping Dan.

Dan tucks his head into the crook of Phil’s neck and inhales deeply. He smells different, more like metal than laundry detergent. It’s less comforting and more… intimidating. But his heartbeat is the same, the same steady thrumming it has always been, except a little faster with emotion. He reaches up to tangle his fingers in Phil’s hair, but is greeted by a short buzz. He stifles a sob.

“Dan,” Phil breathes, hugging him tighter. “God, I’ve- I’ve missed you.”

He pulls back, looking in Phil’s eyes. They’re the same blue, but deeper, like they’ve seen things. “I’ve missed you, too, you spork.”

Phil grins widely, hooking a finger under Dan’s chin and pulling his face closer. His lips are parted and Dan’s not an idiot; he knows what Phil is going for. Dan jerks back, face flushing. “I- I can’t.”

Phil begins to blush, but doesn’t have time to feel embarrassed as his family rushes to greet him.

Dan stands to the side, grinning like an idiot, as Phil’s family takes turns smothering him. When all's said and done, they hail a taxi and pile in, Dan pressed between Phil and the door. Phil leans towards Dan, every movement he makes jostling Dan. Dan can’t find it in himself to care. If it were possible, he would fuse their bodies together so they’d never be apart again. Dan’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he lifts his hips up to retrieve it from his back pocket. He doesn’t miss the way Phil’s gaze lingers on his exposed torso.

**From: Lottie**

_has he landed?? can i see a pic?? take a selfie!_

Dan laughs and Phil lifts an eyebrow. Dan explains, “My friend, Lottie, just texted me. She- um- she wants me to take a picture of the two of us.”

Phil laughs. “Well, don’t leave her hanging.”

Dan smiles and holds his phone up, angling for an awkward selfie. Phil rests his head on Dan’s shoulder, cheeks pressed together as Dan snaps the photo. Phil doesn’t pull away when Dan lowers the phone. With his head still on his shoulder he says, “That’s a good photo. You should post it.”

Dan is acutely aware of Phil’s breath in his ear and he’s trying very hard to hold still. “Yeah. I- I think I will,” he stutters.

Phil watches over Dan’s shoulder as he drafts out the tweet and hits send.

@danisnotonfire: _guess who’s back! https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CWXpl4XUEAAxUxA.jpg_

Phil smiles. “I like that.”

“Apparently everyone else does, too,” Dan says, scrolling through the replies.

Phil leans back in his seat again and Dan lets out a deep breath. “Maybe we can film while I’m here, too.”

“You’re only here for two days, Phil. Spend time with your family.”

“I wanna spend time with you, too, Dan,” Phil whines, nudging his leg against Dan’s.

“You’re a child,” he says, rolling his eyes. He smiles, though, and that grin stays planted on his face for the rest of the day.

 

**2 March 2016**

Dan flips onto his side and and adjusts uncomfortably. The sofa bed in their office is more like a slab of concrete than a bed. He, however, had offered his room to Nigel and Karen and was forced to deal with the stiffness of the sofa bed. He groans and turns onto his back, folding his arms behind his head and staring out the window. The city lights blot out the stars, but the view is still quite beautiful. A glance at the clock on the wall tells him it’s half past three.

The five of them had stayed up until one, talking and just enjoying one another’s company. Phil told them funny stories about the men in his squadron and Dan recounted a few of his awkward experiences. They all carefully avoided the heavier topics, like death and injuries. It felt like they were walking on eggshells, trying not to upset Phil. Though the tension wasn’t at the forefront of his mind, it was still palpable and caused a few long pauses. At quarter til one, Karen retired for the night and Nigel followed soon after. Martyn, Phil, and Dan stayed up for another half hour before leaving to their respective rooms, Martyn and Phil sharing Phil’s room and Dan on the sofa bed.

Light pools in from the hallway and splashes across Dan’s face. He blinks slowly, sleep finally starting to overtake him, but then a shadow blocks the light and Dan cranes his neck to see who is standing in the doorway. It’s Phil.

“What are you doing up?” Dan asks, sitting up.

“Couldn’t sleep knowing you’re up here, close enough to touch.” He leans against the doorframe and yawns.

Dan pats the space next to him on the couch and Phil sinks into the sofa, tucking himself close to Dan. Dan leans towards Phil, head resting on his shoulder. “I missed you,” he says for about the millionth time.

Phil’s body shakes with quiet laughter. “I missed you, too.”

Dan tilts his head back to look Phil in the eye. “What’s it like?”

“What? War?”

Dan nods, twisting his hands into the thin sheet around his thighs.

“It’s- It’s different. A few weeks before, my squadron and I gunned down some attackers. None of us were hurt. A bullet grazed Jason’s ear, but nothing more serious than that. We were ordered to search the bodies for anything regarding another attack. I- I didn’t even bat an eye at the thought of searching a- someone I just killed. One guy had been shot in the head; killed instantly. His face wasn’t even recognizable. I searched him. I found a folded up piece of paper in one of his pockets. I thought I had found something so I called the others over.” He takes in a shaky breath. “It was a picture. It was soft, like someone had been folding and unfolding it a lot. It was- It was the soldier. He had a little girl on his lap. She couldn’t have been more than two or three. She was laughing and he was just- just staring at her with this fondness. There was- There was so much love in his eyes.”

“Phil.”

“I’ve killed people’s husbands, fathers, brothers, sons, grandsons. I don’t even think about it anymore. They aren’t _people_ to me when I fire my gun. They’re demons, things I should get rid of.” 

“Phil,” Dan tries again.

“What?” he snaps.

“You’re- You’re doing a good thing.”

Phil laughs drily, humorlessly. “Am I though? I’m killing people, Dan. For fuck’s sake!” Phil is clenching his fists so tight his knuckles are white.

Dan stays quiet, opting to study his hands instead of looking at Phil. “I’m- I’m sorry.”

A siren passes below the window. Dan can see the faint red light reflecting on the building across from them before it’s gone.

“Why’d you pull away?” he asks suddenly.

“What?” Dan sputters, looking at Phil with wide eyes.

Phil doesn’t break eye contact. It’s unnerving. “At the airport. Why’d you pull away?”

Dan looks away first. “I just can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“Can’t be like that with you. Not while you’re getting shot at.”

“Why?” Dan bites hard on his lower lip. “Dan?”

“I can’t do this with you when you leave in a day and half and could die next week.”

His voice is low when he responds. “If I die next week, will you regret it?”

“I won’t know what I’m missing.”

“You won’t know what you would have had.”

“I love you, Phil. And I know you know that. But I just can’t. I’m sorry.” Dan forces the words out, his mind screaming at him to stop. He wants this, wants Phil, but the logical part of him is telling him it would never work.

“Any other time, I would have argued with you on this,” Phil begins, laying down on the sofa. “But I don’t want to spend the short amount of time we have together fighting.”

Dan lies down next to him, curling himself under Phil’s arm. The city lights gleam in the distance and Phil’s breath is steady beside him. In another world, it would be perfect. But Dan is not in another world and try as he might, he can’t change that. All he can do is relish the moment while it lasts and bottle the memory up tight enough so that he can never forget it.

 

**3 March 2016**

“Tweet that,” Phil instructs, studying the photo on Dan’s phone.

“That’ll be the fifth one this hour!” he protests, but begins to draft out the tweet anyway.

“I know I joke about this, but I really do miss social media,” Phil laughs.

Dan replies, “I would, too,” and posts the tweet.

“I leave tonight.”

“I know.”

Nigel, Karen, and Martyn had all left about an hour before, giving Dan and Phil some time to be alone. They were going to meet them at the airport at five-thirty to say goodbye.

“I don’t want to go back,” Phil admits, tucking one arm behind his head.

Dan drops his phone on the couch and sighs. “I don’t want you to go, either.”

Phil chuckles, but Dan can tell he hasn’t found anything funny. “I, uh. I didn’t want to come home at first.”

That’s not what Dan is expecting and he freezes up before asking, “Why not?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. I guess I felt like- I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

“Try me.”

Phil settles deeper into the sofa. “It’s like- It’s so different, you know? I thought I would come home and everything would be different. Like, maybe you had moved or something or Martyn got married. I don’t know. I guess I was afraid of coming back and nothing being the same.”

“It’s not the same, Phil.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t think I do.”

Phil rubs the back of his head. His hair is a reddish-orange, different from the stark black Dan is used to. “I was scared you wouldn’t love me anymore.”

“I could never stop loving you. Phil, you’re my best friend,” Dan says.

“Dan. I know you don’t just love me as a best friend.”

“What do you mean? Of course I-”

“It’s okay. I love you like that, too.”

Dan is at a loss of words. Phil had always been good at reading his emotions, but he had never been so… blatant about it. If Dan was scared, Phil wouldn’t mention it, he would just comfort him. If he was sad, Phil would try to make him happy without asking why he was sad. It was a system that works, and now it feels like it’s falling apart. “I never said I-”

“You don’t have to.”

Dan shakes his head. “How can you- I mean- Phil…”

“Sometimes I know you better than you know yourself,” he whispers. He moves so he can swing one leg over Dan’s lap and sits back on his thighs. “And I know you want this.”

Dan is tense, frozen in place. His hands are clenched at his sides and he's vehemently avoiding Phil’s gaze. Phil’s not being logical so that means Dan must be.

“When was the last time you had sex?” Dan asks.

“What does it matter?” Phil retorts, placing his hands on Dan’s shoulders.

“Because.” He takes a minute to collect his thoughts. “Because you're lonely and fighting a war and probably horny.”

Phil groans in frustration. “Since when are you the logical one? Come on. I leave tonight.”

Dan shakes his head. “Don’t try to guilt me into this, Phil.”

“I’m not trying to guilt you, _Dan_ ,” he says, saying Dan’s name harsher than is necessary.

“Yes, you are. Phil, come on. Stop this. Let’s just hang out, okay? Watch YouTube.”

“I don’t want to watch YouTube. I want to be with you.” He leans forward, lips brushing his ear. “I want to touch.”

Dan fights hard to keep his hands at his side. _Do not touch,_ he tells himself. “Phil. Stop. Get off.”

Phil huffs angrily and slides off him. They sit in tense silence for a while. “I’m sorry,” Phil says tonelessly. Dan doesn’t say anything in return.

 

**8 March 2016**

“So how was Phil’s visit?” Lottie asks, stirring her drink with her straw.

Dan shrugs, casting a wary eye around the Starbucks he and his friend are situated in. “Short.”

She lifts one eyebrow. “That’s all? I mean, don’t hold back on my part.”

“It was nice, you know? We fell back into our old routine. Nothing was awkward really. Except…” he trails, unsure if he should continue.

“Except?” Lottie prompts.

“Except he tried to kiss me.”

Her eyes fly open and her mouth drops open in shock. “Seriously?” Dan nods and stares down at his empty drink. “What do you mean ‘tried’?”

“He leaned in, I leaned back.”

She swats at his arm. “Why’d you do that?”

“Because- Because he’s my best friend and I don’t- I don’t like him like that.”

She snorts. “Dan, I haven’t known you long, so tell me if I’m stepping out of bounds, but you love Phil.”

“You’re stepping out of bounds,” he says hotly.

Lottie sighs and stares out the window. “I think you’d be happy with him is all.”

“I think only I can decide what will or will not make me happy.”

“And that’s true, but Dan, what’s holding you back?”

He frowns and drags his finger through the condensation on his cup. “The war, fans, my friends.”

“I thought you didn’t let those things control your happiness.” She grins smugly.

He remains quiet and stares blankly out the window. What is holding him back?


	5. March-June 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peek at Dan and Phil's letters.

**23 March 2016**

_Dear Dan,_

_Sorry we left things on a bad note. You were right; I wasn’t thinking straight (no pun intended). I hope we can put it behind us and just move on. I really am sorry._

_Things have been relatively quiet so far. My superiors think maybe they’re planning something. I hope they aren’t. There’s not much to say._

_I miss my bed. Only two nights sleeping in it and I grew accustomed. Now I have to get used to the rock hard cots again. I was thinking about getting a tattoo on my bicep, like a soldier’s cross or something like that. Right now we’re with an American squadron and one of the guys is a tattoo artist. If he can get his hands on some stuff he said he’d do it for me. Said it might take a while, though, and if something happens someone else will have to finish it._

_I hope you’re doing okay. Please write back._

_Love,_

_Phil_

 

**1 April 2016**

_Dear Phil,_

_That pun was truly awful, Phil. Honestly. And my bed is super warm and soft. Like sleeping on a cloud. XD_

_A tattoo? Really? Your personality is too adorable for that. I also think you’d cry in pain. If you do get one, can the guy tattoo in comic sans? How neat would that be?_

_Louise helped me film the DanAndPhilCrafts video. We made glitter faces. Thanks for the idea. She also randomly told me that she loves me. I mean, it was nice to hear but what prompted her to say so? I hope you’re doing well. I miss you a lot. And your mum is still miffed you aren’t calling her as often as me. (Honestly, Phil. She’s your mother!)_

_I hope things stay calm over there. I miss you._

_All the love,_

_Dan_

 

**12 April 2016**

_Dear Dan,_

_I’m glad you filmed the April Fool’s day video. I’ll watch it if I can get access to a computer. Connection has been spotty over here. Apparently a big electric storm is rolling in so they have everyone helping to stabilize things. The wind can get really bad over here. I’ve only experienced a minor windstorm and I don’t fancy facing another._

_I think I am going to get the cross, though. Do you know what a soldier's cross is? It’s a gun stood up with the barrel down between two boots and a helmet on top. Look up some photos. I might have Parker, the American tattoo artist, add my dog tags around the gun. I don’t know yet. Parker is a weapons specialist and he and his squadron went out a few days to pick up more ammo and the like._

_I wish I had more time to write, but I have to help secure the tents. I’ll write you later._

_Love,_

_Phil_

 

**26 April 2016**

_Dear Phil,_

_I think the tattoo would be awesome, now that I’ve seen it. Have you considered getting it between your shoulder blades? There’s a lot more space there. Would the dog tags say something? Like your name or have some dates?_

_It’s been raining here in London, but what’s new? I keep getting cereal delivered to our flat even though I have, like, three unopened boxes. It keeps a lot longer without someone eating it during the day. How’s your food? Do you actually add water to it? Sounds disgusting._

_I’ve started rereading_ Harry Potter. _I forgot how much of a prick Draco was during the first book. Like, the guy needs to chill. Do you secretly sort people when you see them? I do sometimes, when I’m walking down the street or something. I’ve always thought Louise would be a Gryffindor. She’s a Slytherin. You know what she did when I went to bathroom when we were out to lunch? She got the waiter to bring her vinegar and she poured it into my water. I know you’re laughing. Stop it. Lottie’s a Ravenclaw, definitely. You remember Lottie, right? She’s the girl I met at the support group. She knows so much about history and English and stuff. She can name almost all the popes and even knows all fifty states! I don’t know why she needs that information, but she’s full of it. She’s going to draw me sometime. Did I tell you she’s an artist?_

_The news hasn’t reported anything. Is everything calm over there? Some bombing they didn’t hear about? Hope you’re well._

_All the love,_

_Dan_

 

**11 May 2016**

_Dear Dan,_

_The electric storm came and went. It blew over one tent that wasn’t secured well, but other than that there was minimal damage. Parker and his squadron returned with the new weapons. Since things have been relatively quiet, we have a lot of extra ammo so Major Hotkins has had all of us doing target practice. Frannie is a Brit from a different squadron and her aim is deadly. Ken lost a hundred pounds to Grace on a bet about her aim. My aim is pretty decent. I hit the target every time and in the same general area. Shooting is actually a lot of fun when the gun isn’t pointed at another person. I remember when I was first in training back in London. The kickback from the gun bruised my shoulder. It was sore for weeks. Now I barely notice it._

_The food isn’t that bad over here, honestly. (I’m kidding, please send me food.)_

_It’s been really quiet lately. My superiors are usually on edge, but some are more relaxed. Most of the time, when we’re not doing our duties, we play a lot of games with cards and stuff. The Americans like playing poker for fags and candy and stuff. I played a few games with them and won a Hershey bar and a Twix. I gave the fags I won to Frannie. She smokes like her life depends on it. I heard Matt, our doctor, tell her if she doesn’t slow down she’ll die of cancer. She told him she’s going to die out here before the cancer gets to her. She’s definitely a Gryffindor._

_If you think what Louise did to you was bad, I woke up a few days to find Henry and Jay fighting. Apparently, Henry had taken a razor and carved ‘I LOVE PENIS’ into his hair. Jay was forced to shave his head. Like, completely bald. We call him Egg now. Because he looks like an egg._

_Our connection got stronger so I watched the April Fool’s video. Really, Dan? A pentagram? Parker found it hilarious. Did I mention he got his hands on some ink and stuff? His sister sent some stuff over. He’s gonna give me the tat if I do some of his duties. I think I will get it between my shoulder blades. Parker said that would hurt more, but what’s a little pain at this point?_

_I’ll talk to you soon._

_Love,_

_Phil_

 

**26 May 2016**

_Dear Phil,_

_You’re starting to use a lot of war dialogue. I think I’m losing you. Thank god for the Internet or I wouldn’t have understood most of the first part of your letter. You’ll have to send pictures of the tattoo’s progress._

_I spent the day with Lottie yesterday. She drew me and it looks pretty great. I’ll include a copy of_ [ _it_ ](http://pre06.deviantart.net/37a3/th/pre/i/2015/354/c/6/dan_howell_by_draconamalfoy-d9kre3h.jpg) _. Looks amazing, right? She wanted to go to art school, but couldn’t afford it. She’s waitressing at a restaurant instead. I offered to pay for her schooling, but she won’t accept it. Is that too forward? I mean, I was just trying to be nice and we make a considerable amount of money. Maybe I’ll donate some anonymously to her. Or have a friend leave a giant tip or something. I don’t know. She deserves to go to school._

_You’ve always sucked at poker! How the heck did you win? Maybe your poker face has improved since you’ve been away, but last I remember, Chris, PJ, and I dominated you. You always giggled when you had a good hand and slouched when you didn’t._

_How’s Egg doing? Has he recovered from Henry’s prank? It’d be hilarious if after he grew it back out Henry shaved it again. I feel kind of bad for the guy, though. I’m happy things have been quiet. Hopefully_ _I’ll get you back_ _you’ll come back in one piece._

_I think PJ and Chris are planning a surprise party for me. Like twenty-five is a big deal. A quarter way to death! Yay! If it’s anything like Chris’s last party I’ll probably wake up upside down in a ditch. And that would be the best case scenario._

_When are you free to Skype? Your handwriting seems to get worse with each letter. And I want to see your orange hair again. You look like a carrot._

_All the love,_

_Dan_

 

**6 June 2016**

_Dear Dan,_

_HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY! Twenty five is certainly a big deal! You’re a quarter of a century! How cool is that? At least you won’t be turning thirty next year. I feel like an old man. I’m going to Skype you on your birthday before the party, so make sure you’re on online. Parker started on my tattoo last week. It hurt a little at first but after a while I got used to it._

_We moved our camp a few kilometers east and found a small village that has somehow escaped the war. They haven’t really been affected by it. The village kids find us fascinating. A little girl, Maya, has really taken to me. She follows me around when I do my duties and helps me when she can. She knows some English, but there’s still a language barrier. Her dad seems to like me, too. He speaks better English, so we talk sometimes. He says that her older brother had been involved in a war and lost his life. I guess I remind her of her brother. I don’t see how. Her family’s skin is this beautiful coffee brown and mine looks like glue._

_Take lots of pictures of your birthday party! I included some of my progress pictures for you._

_And Lottie’s drawing is incredible! Definitely convince her to go to school! She could get scholarships._

_See you soon, Dan._

_Love,_

_Phil_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALL CREDIT FOR THE PENCIL DRAWING GOES TO THE ARTIST IT LOOKS AMAZING DOES IT NOT?? 
> 
> I would like to reiterate that I have very limited knowledge of the military, especially the British military, so please point out any mistakes. 
> 
> Sorry it took so long to update. I'm lazy. This chapter is short because I felt bad about leaving you all hanging. The next chapter will cover Dan's birthday bash. We'll see what happens.


	6. June-July 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao sorry for not posting for like 6 months. It's my senior year of high school so things have been pretty hectic. Anyway, this is a really short chapter in case you couldn't tell, but I think it packs a bit of a punch. I guess there's a slight warning for some sexy times but that's about it. Enjoy.

**11 June 2016**

Dan shoves his keys and wallet in his pocket and locks the door behind him. He’s not looking forward to his surprise party at all. Everyone keeps telling him twenty-five is a big deal. His psychiatrist, Dr. Vansaun, told him he should try to keep going as normal. “If Phil doesn’t come back, you should be prepared to be living on your own for an indeterminate amount of time.”

“Why?” Dan had asked.

“You’ll already be accustomed to being on your own. It will make the… transition easier.”

But Dan doesn’t like thinking about Phil not coming back. He understands where Dr. Vansaun is coming from, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. He shakes his head to get rid of the thoughts and hails a taxi. It’s going to be a long night, he can feel it, but Chris never fails on the alcohol front. He scrolls through his texts on the ride over, responding to a few from cousins and old uni friends he doesn’t see anymore.

Phil had Skyped him earlier to wish him a happy birthday. He showed Dan how the tattoo’s coming along. It’s centered between his shoulder blades and just the outline is finished, but it looks nice. Phil’s back has gained some muscle, as has the rest of his body. His red-orange hair leans more towards orange now from all the sun he’s getting, and his skin isn’t as pale. He looks great, but not necessarily healthy. He has bags under his eyes and a scar on his temple. Dan noticed a slight change in his voice. It’s rougher, almost, and he swears more than usual. His eyes have also gotten darker. Dan doesn’t want to think about what could be causing these changes.

The taxi comes to a stop in front of Chris’ flat building and Dan tosses a few bills to the cabbie. He sees a curtain twitch in Chris’ flat and then the lights flicker off. He chuckles to himself. He loves his friends dearly, but they suck at surprise parties. As he climbs the stairs to Chris’ flat, he sends him a text telling him he’s here. Chris tells him to just walk in.

Everyone yells surprise when he enters the flat and he feigns surprise. He smiles and thanks Chris for throwing the party and thanks everyone for coming. Someone turns on the music and Louise slips a cup in his hand. He mills around the party, talking to the guests. He spots Felix and Marzia and discusses doing a collab with them on the gaming channel. Marzia tells him he’s welcome to come over whenever. Felix says he can borrow a pug to take Phil’s place.

After he’s gotten a few drinks in him, Dan starts to enjoy himself. He dances and talks and tells bad jokes. No one really mentions Phil. Around one AM, he finds Lottie and pulls her into the living room to dance. She’s just as drunk as he is and comes easily. Dan doesn’t know how it happens. He’s usually very awkward with girls, but somehow the alcohol and his close friendship with Lottie makes it easier. He starts just holding her hands as they dance horribly in the corner, red cups abandoned. As more people crowd into the living, they are pressed closer together and his hands drop to her waist. Her hips swing with the music and with the height advantage, Dan can see right down her low-cut top. Some nagging voice in the back of his mind is screaming at him to stop this before it starts, but it’s quickly silenced by a louder voice reminded him he hasn’t pulled in almost two years.

Someone bumps into them and Lottie’s leg slips between Dan’s. She doesn’t bother pulling back and Dan doesn’t really mind. In fact, he drops his hands lower, to her hips, and starts rubbing his thumbs over her hip bones. Lottie is all subtle curves and soft skin. Her hands are around his neck and she’s playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He’s been due for a haircut for some time, so it’s long enough that she can slide her fingers through it. Dan rests his forehead against hers and pulls her closer.

Her lips are soft and pliant. They mould to his easily and they quickly fall into a rhythm. He runs his tongue over her bottom lip and her lips part. Her mouth is hot and wet. She responds eagerly and knows what she’s doing.

A taxi takes them back to Dan’s flat. They stumble up the stairs to the door and when Dan finally unlocks it, he pushes her up against it and kisses her. She wraps her legs around his waist, her breasts pressed to his chest. Their kisses are messy and wet, desperate.

They stumble up more stairs, Dan cursing them as they go. She latches on his neck, and sucks hard on his collarbone. He feels her teeth graze over his skin and he moans. He slides his hands under her shirt and pulls it off. She does the same for him. They make it to his room and collapse in the bed, Dan hovering over her. He’s sweaty and drunk and it feels perfect to have a warm body in his bed. Lottie is smaller than him, and he feels protective, strong. He reaches into his side drawer to grab the condoms.

 

**12 June 2016**

Dan wakes up with a mouth as dry as sandpaper and feels like he ate shit. His head hurts and his eyes feel glued shut. He groans and rolls off the bed. The fact that he’s naked does not alarm him. Sometimes he sleeps commando in the summer when it’s hot. What alarms him is when he slips on something and catches himself on his side table. He lifts his foot up and pulls a condom off his sole. “What the fuck,” he mutters and the gears start turning in his head.

He’s afraid to turn around and see who is in his bed. The condom help limply in his hand, he turns, and his stomach drops.

Lottie is lying on her stomach, the duvet stopping just at the swell of her bum. Her hair is spread out across the pillow and she’s sleeping soundly. He swallows harshly. Think, he tells himself.

They were both drunk. It didn’t mean anything. It won’t affect their friendship. He doesn’t even remember it! He pulls on some boxers and walks to the bathroom. First things first: take some medicine for his headache. He downs some Advil and then walks to the kitchen to fill a cup of water up for Lottie. He seats it on the table next her along with some Advil and then goes to take a shower.

Lottie is a very pretty girl, but Dan feels dirty, as if he cheated somehow. He scrubs his skin until it’s red and then scrubs it some more. The water is boiling hot and he knows that can’t be good for his skin. He turns the knob so cold water rushes over him and bites his tongue to keep from squealing. He turns off the faucet and steps out. He wraps a towel around his waist and brushes his teeth. Food would be good. Toast and tea maybe. He takes some clothes from his room as quietly as possible and picks up Lottie’s clothes to throw them in the washer. He’s trying to keep himself busy to avoid thinking, but once the bread is toasted and the tea is made, he idles.

He’s not very hungry and he would very much like to go back to bed, but Lottie is in there and he doesn’t know how long she could sleep for. He wants to put off the conversation they’re bound to have for as long as possible. He nibbles on toast and watches the telly without really watching it. His stomach churns.

Lottie wakes up around noon. Dan knows because he hears her yell, “Shit!” He grabs her clean clothes off the dryer and looks away as he nudges the door open.

“Lottie?” he says to the wall across from him.

“Dan? Is that you?”

“Um, yeah. I washed your clothes for you. They’re right here. I left some Advil on the table for you.”

He hears the pills skitter across the table and then the cup being set down. “Thanks. Um, you can just put the clothes down right there.”

He closes the door behind him and goes to reheat the tea and toast. Lottie comes out and sits on the couch next to Dan, leaving a good amount of space between them. “I, uh, used some of your mouthwash. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all,” he says without looking at her. 

Moments pass.

“Um,” Lottie says. “It was a mistake, right? I mean, I don’t like you like that. You’re just a friend.”

“Yeah,” Dan agrees readily. “Totally. I don’t like you like that. I mean, you’re very pretty, but…” He blushes and looks at his hands. “Yeah.”

She nods curtly. “I’m just gonna go. I’ll text you later.”

“Right. Okay. Um, bye.” He stands up to hug her and it’s awkward as hell. He lets out a breath he didn’t he was holding when he hears the door close behind her.

 

**15 June 2016**

_ Dear Dan, _

_ How was your birthday? You’re twenty-five now. How does it feel to be so old? I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for it, but I will be there for your twenty-sixth birthday. I promise. _

_ Parker started doing some shading on the tattoo. A few more sessions and it should be done. We’ve moved camp. Not because we were in danger or anything, but because it’s never good to stay in one place for too long. Remember the little girl I told you about? In the village? The one that kept following me around? She cried when she realized I would be leaving. It broke my heart, Dan. I felt so bad for leaving her. She gave me a picture she drew. It’s of her and me in the desert. I keep it in my breast pocket now. I pull it out anytime I’m feeling sad. _

_ Thanks for sending the boxes of cereal. Not everyone thinks it’s weird to eat it dry. Some other people do it, too! I told you it’s not weird. :P We’re going on a raid in a few weeks time. We’re searching through a city that’s been bombed for survivors or weapons or anything like that. I’ll admit; I’m a little scared. It’ll only be my third raid. We should be fine though. _

_ How’re my parents doing? How’s Lottie? Louise? PJ and Chris? Basically, how is everyone? I miss them all so much, but I can only write to a few people. I never seem to have any time. I’ll try to call you when I can. I won’t be able to Skype for a while. Sorry. _

_ I hope you’re doing well. I miss you a lot, you know. _

_ Love, Phil _

 

**1 July 2016**

Lottie calls him in the middle of a fit of tears. Between her sobs, Dan picks out ‘sorry’, ‘broke’, and ‘test’, but can’t be sure what she’s saying.

“Lottie, Lottie. Calm down. Take some deep breaths, okay? Where are you? I’ll come to you.”

“I’m at a Planned Parenthood,” she says and Dan’s heart stops.

“Why- Why are you at a Planned Parenthood?” he whispers.

“Please, come pick me up. Please.”

Dan’s shaking as he grabs his keys. “Lottie, why are you at a Planned Parenthood?” Maybe she just has an STD, like chlamydia or something. He will have to get tested for it, too, and treated if he has it. No big deal. An old uni friend got it once, and he just had to take a round of antibiotics. They’d be fine, and Dad hadn’t slept with anyone since Lottie, and no one before her for almost two years.

“I’m so sorry, Dan.”

“Why are you at a Planned Parenthood?” Dan yells into the phone, startling the people walking by him.

“I’m pregnant,” she says.

 

**15 July 2016**

Dan’s mum is banging on his door. “Get up, Daniel!” she yells. “It’s half past noon!”

 

Dan groans and turns over in his bed. “I’ll be down in a minute!”

“You better be, young man! Or I’m getting the water bucket!”

He sits up in his bed and rubs his eyes. He’s been staying with his parents for the past two weeks. He told them it’s because he missed them, but his mum knows something is up. Dan can’t find it in him to tell her he’s hiding from his baby mama. No one else knows that Lottie is pregnant. She’s only a month or so along, and they haven’t made any decisions as to what they want to do with it.

Dan had made the mistake of asking her if she was sure it was his. He got an earful from that one. The doctor at PP had gone over their options. She said Lottie was a candidate for an abortion, but Lottie shot it down right away. “I’m not killing this baby,” she had said, and that was that.

They had talked about adoption, but got nowhere with that. In the end, the doctor just gave her a prescription for some antenatal meds and sent them on their way. Dan had gone home and packed a bag. He left his phone at his flat, and told no one where he was going.

“Good morning, sunshine,” his dad greets when Dan walks down the stairs.

He grunts in return and grabs some cereal for breakfast.

“Hey, sweetie. Feeling okay?” his mum asks.

“Fine, yeah. Where’s Ashton?”

“Out with friends.”

“Where? I might go hang out with them.”

“No, you won’t,” his dad says.

“Sorry, what?”

“You’re gonna help me fix the porch.”

“Dad, you know I’m not very handy-”

“You’re gonna learn to be. Now, hurry up and finish your breakfast and we’ll go to the hardware store.”

Dan looks at his mum, but she just shrugs, so he resigns himself to his fate and goes upstairs to change. On the way there, his dad keeps saying, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I know, Dad.”

“So what’s eating at you?”

Dan shifts in his seat. “Nothing. Just Phil, I guess.”

“You guess?” He parks the car outside the hardware store.

“Yeah. I miss him a lot. And he’s different now.”

“Grab a trolley, would you? Different how?” his dad says.

The trolley’s wheels squeal as they turn. “ _ Different _ different. It’s hard to explain.”

“You’re a creative person. Try.”

“I dunno, Dad. He’s just different.” Dan helps his dad slide planks of wood under the trolley. “It’s like- I knew he was going to be different when all was said and done, but I also didn’t know, you know?”

“Not really.”

“You’re being difficult on purpose.”

His dad holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m not, I swear.”

“You know Phil. You know his personality. He’s not as… bubbly, open, I guess. It’s like he’s beginning to shut people out, even me. I can tell he’s holding things back when we talk and write and stuff, and I know I can never understand what he’s going through, but I just wish he would talk to me.” He sighs. “Am I being too sensitive about this?”

His dad picks up a can of wood stain and squints at the label. “I don’t think so. He’s your best friend, you want to know what he’s going through, you want to help. Phil will talk when he’s ready, and I know he will talk to you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you’re Dan and Phil. You guys always get through and you’ll get through this. Do you think this color matches the porch?”

“I got a girl pregnant,” Dan says.

“Not what I was expecting as an answer, but okay. Who?”

“My friend, Lottie. We slept together on my birthday and the condom broke.”

“And you’re sure she’s pregnant?”

“She went to a Planned Parenthood and got tested, so yes.”

“Alright. Do you want the baby?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s a simple yes or no question, Dan.”

“It’s not that simple, Dad!”

“Why not?”

“It just isn’t!”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t love Lottie, I love Phil!” he screams. “Oh, shit.”


	7. July-August 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooooh my goooooooood. an entire year. sorry lmao.

**20 July 2016**

Dan taps his fingers against his plastic Starbucks cup and glances out the window. Lottie is late, which isn’t a new development, but he’d rather not put this conversation off. She’s still pretty mad at him for going AWOL for two weeks, especially during their current predicament. It doesn’t help that he missed the first ultrasound. The baby’s due in March, apparently.

The bell above the door dings and Lottie walks in. She looks frazzled. He almost tells her as much, but decides better of it, and just slides the drink to her. They sit in silence for a few minutes before it becomes too much for Dan and he says, “Um, how are you?”

“Don’t,” Lottie sighs, brushing her thumb over the rim of her cup.

“Right. Okay.”

Dan has never felt so awkward, and that’s saying something. He looks down at his drink, then out the window, and back at his drink.  _ It’s weird _ , he thinks.  _ There’s a part of me growing inside Lottie. Oh, my god. There’s a part of me inside Lottie. Holy shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck. _

Lottie says, “I can hear you thinking, Dan.”

“There’s a part of me inside you,” he squeaks.

“Nothing new. How do you think the little parasite got in there in the first place?”

Dan blushes. “Don’t call it a parasite.”

“It was a term of affection.”

“Doesn’t sound like one.”

Lottie breathes out loudly. “Have you told anyone?”

“My parents.”

“How’d they take it?”

“Dad was fine. Mum was a little upset. Said she’s too young to be a grandmum. What about yours?”

“They don’t know.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t want to tell them until we’ve got it figured out.”

“Lots, that could take ages. You could be showing by the time we get this mess figured out.”

“Do you want kids?”

“I- What?” Dan asks.

“Kids. Do you want ‘em?”

He frowns and looks at his drink again. “I mean, yeah, but not now. I just turned twenty-five.”

“Time to face the music, Dan.”

“We could put her up for adoption,” he suggests.

“Her?”

Dan blushes. “Sorry, I just- I picture a baby girl.”

“I picture a boy with my blue eyes and your brown hair. He’d be a lady killer.” Lottie smiles and rests her hand on her stomach.

“Nah, he’d get the short end of the stick and inherit my two left feet and noodle arms. He’d be awkward as fuck.”

“He’d be kind, though. Like you. And he’d be smart and funny. And talented.”

Dan finds himself smiling. A baby boy. He can almost picture it: chubby, rosy cheeks, big blue eyes and unruly dark hair. His hair would be so soft and he’d be so giggly. He would be a part of Dan, his son. That would make Dan a father. Fatherhood. What would Phil think? Would Phil accept the baby as his own? Or would he be disgusted with Dan and leave? Could his son call Phil uncle? Or maybe papa?

“You’re thinking again.”

“I don’t love you, Lottie,” he says and boy, did that come out wrong. “I mean, I do. You’re one of my best friends, but I don’t love you in the way our kid needs it. Do you get what I’m saying?”

“Oddly enough, I do. We can’t raise this baby together. Either one of us takes it, or we give him up for adoption.”

“Or her.”

“Or her,” Lottie agrees.

“We have some time to figure it out.”

“Nine months goes by fast.”

 

**31 July 2016**

_ Dear Dan, _

_ I haven’t heard from you in a while. Is everything okay? Maybe your letter just got lost in the mail. _

_ Do you remember that raid I mentioned? We’re leaving in a few days. I just heard that the place could be riddled with landmines, so we have to be extra careful. Some of the doctors here gave us a crash course on what to do if we lose a limb. Did you know shoelaces can be used as tourniquets in an emergency? I’m petrified, Dan. I don’t want any of my friends to get hurt.  _ I  _ don’t want to get hurt. _

_ I miss you a lot, Dan. Please be there when I get home. _

_ Love, _

_ Phil _

 

**6 August 2016**

@lunar_phil:  _ @danisnotonfire r u okay mate? u’ve kinda gone AWOL _

@pixiehowelterr:  _ @danisnotonfire how’s phil doing? and happy late birthday!! :) _

@my_son_daniel_howell:  _ @danisnotonfire where u at ho _

@danisnotonfire:  _ dealing with some personal stuff atm. ~send good vibes my way~ _

 

**10 August 2016**

“Tell me again,” Dan says outside the bathroom door in between Lottie’s fits of vomiting, “why you’re staying with me.”

“Because Mum would see right through me and I don’t want her to know yet,” Lottie croaks and flushes the toilet. “God, this is disgusting.”

“How long does this last?”

“Doc said usually just the first trimester. And I’m, like, a month and a half in or something. This parasite is causing a lot of issues.” She washes her hands and opens the door, causing Dan to tumble into the bathroom.

“What did you tell your mum?”

“That I’m staying with you for a bit.”

“Does she think we’re-”

“She thinks you’re bent, Dan.”

Dan blinks. “I’m not-”

“I know you’re not, but it’s better to let her think that than for her to think we’re having wild hot sex right now.”

Dan wrinkles his nose. “When are you-”

“I’m not ready yet.”

“-Gonna let me finish a damn question, Jesus.”

“Now.”

“Are you feeling-”

“Scratch that,” Lottie interrupts and dives back into the bathroom to vomit again.

 

**12 August 2016**

_ Dear Phil, _

_ Sorry it took me so long to write back. I haven't forgotten about you. I don't think I ever could, even if I tried. The truth is, something happened. Nothing bad; nobody’s hurt or ill or dead. It's just sort of a big deal. A really big deal actually. It's not really something I can say in a letter, or over the phone. I'd prefer to do it in person, but I think Skype would be the next best thing. _

_ I hope the raid is going/will go/went well. I really hope you're okay. Tell me everything, okay? _

_ Skype as soon as you can. See you soon. _

_ All the love, _

_ Dan _

 

**17 August 2016**

Dan looks over at Lottie and slaps her hands away from her mouth. “Stop chewing on your nails.”

“I'm nervous!” she protests, but tucks her hands under her thighs.

The train is crowded for a Wednesday and he and Lottie managed to claim some of the last available seats on the train. “It's going to be fine, I'm sure.”

“You've never met my parents. I can't guarantee my dad won't kill you.”

“That’s reassuring,” Dan says and they spend the rest of the ride in silence.

Lottie’s parents live in a small town about half an hour outside of London. Their house is tiny and quite cute. Flowers grow in baskets outside the windows, and a big tree casts a shadow over half the house. They have a porch swing, and the windows are open, making the curtains flutter in the breeze. It’s picturesque.

Lottie’s father, Henry, greets Dan with a firm handshake. “Dan! Nice to finally meet you!”

“You, too, sir,” Dan says and hopes his palm isn’t too sweaty.

“Just call me Henry. Come in, come in.”

Lottie’s mum, Kendra, is just as welcoming, though Dan isn’t sure how long it will last. The four of them make pleasant small talk over tea and biscuits, but Dan feels a little as if it’s his last meal. His anxiety is skyrocketing with each minute that passes and his leg won’t stop bouncing.

“You obviously didn’t come here just to talk, Lots,” Henry says, sipping his tea. “Something on your mind?” He winks at Dan and Dan wishes he could just curl up and die.

“Um, yeah, actually,” Lottie says and looks at Dan. Dan pointedly looks away. He’s not going to be the one to say it. They’re not  _ his _ parents. He hears Lottie sigh. Dan closes his eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

It’s so quiet Dan could hear a pin drop. He’s holding his breath, waiting for the explosion Lottie told him to expect. When he it doesn’t come, he opens his eyes and looks at Henry and Kendra. Kendra is crying silently, a hand over her mouth, and Henry is staring open mouthed at Lottie.

“Dan’s the father. I’m due in March,” Lottie continues.

“Oh, honey!” Kendra says, suddenly springing up and wrapping Lottie in a hug. “A baby! A grandbaby, Henry!”

“Pregnant,” Henry says slowly. “By Dan.”

“Erm, I’m sorry, sir. We were responsible and stuff, it’s just, you know, these things happen and the condom-”

“Stop,” he says and Dan’s jaw clicks shut. “I thought you were gay.”

Dan wishes he could be anywhere but there. “Um,” he says.

“Henry!” Kendra scolds, wiping her eyes.

Henry shrugs. “Either way, you have our full support. You need money or a place to stay or whatever, we’re here.”

“Um, thanks?” Dan says and looks at Lottie. She’s grinning and rubbing her stomach.

“A baby,” Henry says, shaking his head. “Well I’ll be damned.”

**Author's Note:**

> IF ANYONE WOULD LIKE TO CREATE A PODFIC FOR THIS THAT'D BE AMAZING I'LL WRITE A FICLET FOR YOU IF YOU DO


End file.
